Finding Gryder (Fighting Redfox sequel)
by CapAleran2
Summary: [AU/Fighting Redfox sequel] Recruited by Sting, Gryder begins down a dark path that carries him to the better half of his life. With a family of his own now, he knows about sacrifice. After witnessing a crime, he and Gajeel again enter the struggle against the destructive life they had once rejected. It's the fight of a lifetime for both father and son. [2-plot converg/lemon/angst]
1. The List

**AN** : This is a sequel to _Fighting Redfox_ , which you must read first in order to understand the events of this story. Both stories are interconnected.

I had been struggling to write for sometime since my brother's death involving heroin. As I wrote in _Fighting Redfox_ , this sequel contains drug usage; not all who are drowning within the drug's hold are bad people. Not at all. Sadly they just made one bad choice. The rest were made against their wishes, against their better judgement, which could have/may have led to their untimely end. It's not up to us to determine their fate, but we must help them do what is right through encouragement. This story has strong redemption themes as well: _there is_ still _hope for the ones still caught in_ narcotic _traps._

 **Storyline** : [AU] Recruited by a man named Sting after personal tragedy, Mest Gryder begins his descent down a dark path he thought was his destiny. Little does he know, that same destiny would carry him to the better half of his life. With a family of his own, Gryder knows about sacrifice. After witnessing a crime, he once again finds himself and all those he holds dear in the destructive way of narcotics - something he knew all too well. It will be the fight of a lifetime for both Gryder and Gajeel in this _Fighting Redfox_ sequel. [Two-Plot Convergence/Crime, Drama]

 _*Major character death warning_

Two separate plots - the past and the present - collide as events unfold.

*Rated Mature - There is intense language, violence, drug usage, and some sexual situations. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

*I do not own any of the media.

*I do not own any of Fairy Tail - that's all Hiro Mashima.

* * *

 **You can find this playlist on Spotify: _Finding Gryder Playlist_**

 _ **Finding Gryder soundtrack **_

_Music By Audiomachine:_

| _The All Spark_ \- Steve Jablonsky

| _I Will Find You_

| _Between Heaven and Earth_

| _Nevertheless She Persisted_

| _Live Free or Die_

| _Cities of Dust_

| _Wars of Faith_

| _Hunted_ \- Steve Jablonsky

| _Avow_

| _All Is Not Lost_

| _Dauntless_

* * *

| _Descent_ \- RED

| _Ain't No Grave (Epic Trailer Version)_ \- Hidden Citizens, Adam Christopher

| _Fading_ \- Decyfer Down

| _Into the Fire_ \- Thirteen Senses

| _The Time is Now_ \- Atreyu

| _Feel Invincible_ \- Skillet

| _If Today Was Your Last Day_ \- Nickelback

| _Dangerous (album version)_ \- Shaman's Harvest

| _Remember We Die_ \- Gemini Syndrome

| _Fate_ \- Our Last Night

| Wanted: Dead or Alive - Bon Jvi

| _Get Ready_ \- Rare Earth

| _Ready To Change_ \- Heartist

| _Let's Go To War_ \- Nothing More

| _Carry On My Wayward Son_ \- Kansas

| _Shots Fired_ \- Hidden Citizens, Laney Jones

| _Alone In A Room_ \- Asking Alexandria

| _Riser_ \- Dierks Bentley

| _I Ran (So Far Away)_ \- Hidden Citizens

| _Tear Down the Wall_ \- Art Of Dying

| _Dark On Me_ \- Starset

| _I Am Machine_ \- Three Days Grace

| _Breathe Into Me_ \- RED

| _I would Kill /Lie /Die For You_ \- Atreyu

| _Unbecoming_ \- Starset

| _For Your Sake_ \- Too Close To Touch

| _One For The Money_ \- Escape The Fate

| _Skeletons_ \- Heartist

| _Painkiller_ \- Three Days Grace

| _White Rabbit_ \- Egypt Central

| _My Demons_ \- Starset

| _Not Gonna Die_ \- Skillet

| _I Just Wanna Run_ \- The Downtown Fiction

| _Peace of Mind_ \- Dead By April

| _Gives You Hell_ \- The All-American Rejects

| _Leap of Faith_ \- Big & Rich

| _Father of Mine_ \- Everclear

| _Destruction of Myself_ \- From Ashes to New

| _Mean What You Say_ \- Sent By Ravens

| _Gunslinger_ \- Avenged Sevenfold

| _Let It Die_ \- Starset

| _Far From Home_ \- Five Finger Death Punch

| _Do You Really Want It_ \- Nothing More

| _The Resistance_ \- Skillet

| _See You Again_ \- Carrie Underwood

| _Paperthin Hymn_ \- Anberlin

| _The Boys Are Back in Town_ \- Thin Lizzy

| _Frontline_ \- Pillar

| _Playing With Fire_ \- Dead By April

| _I Am An Outsider_ \- Three Days Grace

| _The Death of Me_ \- Asking Alexandria

| _Ready For This_ \- Hidden Citizens, Sam Tinnesz

| _Hell, Or High Water_ \- Woe Is Me

| _Can't Stop_ \- Leeland

| _The Ghost That's Haunting You_ \- Trivium

| _Back From The Dead_ \- Skillet

| _Don't Lean On Me_ \- The Amity Affliction

| _Rx (Medicate)_ \- Theory of a Deadman

| _Life is Beautiful_ \- Sixx:AM

| _Halo_ \- Starset

| _In The End_ \- Black Veil Brides

| _The Time is Now (Ballast)_ \- Nothing More

| _Carry On_ \- Avenged Sevenfold

| _Immortalized_ \- Hidden Citizens, Keeley Bumford

| _Die For You_ \- Starset

* * *

| _So Say We All_ \- Audiomachine

| _My Way Out_ \- Audiomachine

| _Through The Darkness_ \- Audiomachine


	2. New Beginnings

**AN** : This is a sequel to _Fighting Redfox_ , which you must read first in order to understand the events of this story. Both stories are interconnected.

I had been struggling to write for sometime since my brother's death involving heroin. As I wrote in _Fighting Redfox_ , this sequel contains drug usage; not all who are drowning within the drug's hold are bad people. Not at all. Sadly they just made one bad choice. The rest were made against their wishes, against their better judgement, which could have/may have led to their untimely end. It's not up to us to determine their fate, but we must help them do what is right through encouragement. This story has strong redemption themes as well: _there is_ still _hope for the ones still caught in narcotic traps._

Note that I am unwilling to discuss opinions over drug usage/addiction in general in the reviews/comments, as that is reserved for the story itself. If you wish to speak with me regarding the topic, feel free to PM me.

 _Fighting Redfox and Finding Gryder are dedicated to my brother, Brian._

 **Storyline** : [AU] Taken in by a man named Sting after personal tragedy, Mest Gryder begins his descent down a dark path he thought was his destiny. Little does he know, that same destiny would carry him to the better half of his life. With a family of his own, Gryder knows about sacrifice. After witnessing a crime, he once again finds himself and all those he holds dear in the destructive way of narcotics - something he knew all too well. It will be the fight of a lifetime for both Gryder and Gajeel in this _Fighting Redfox_ sequel. [Two-Plot Convergence/Crime, Drama]

 _*Major character death warning_

Two separate plots - the past and the present - collide as events unfold.

Rated Mature - There is intense language, violence, drug usage, and some sexual situations. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

I do not own any of the media.

I do not own any of Fairy Tail - that's all Hiro Mashima.

* * *

" _I can't imagine dying for someone I didn't love."_

 _Though I remember saying that once before, I can't call the place and time of the memory to mind. I do know there was a cold. A dark. It was a near death experience. I do know that I had a few of those in my day, when the ground beneath felt more like shifting sand than stable rock._

 _But now the despair of that distant, fading part of my life is gone. Warmth has cast the cold away, the dark to light. I can't remember, but I can feel the difference. It was you. The change._

 _It was then I felt my life begin…"_

 **FINDING GRYDER**

Sequel to _Fighting Redfox_

 _A Gajevy/Melder Fanfiction_

By CapAleran2

* * *

 **Chapter One** \- _New Beginnings_

"You ready to go?"

His wife's soft voice began to bring him back to reality. It was barely above a whisper, but Mest Gryder had perceived it as a loud, deep echo. It reverberated into his mind, gently shaking him with increasing intensity.

Blinking, Gryder stared blankly at the dull grey headstone. The echo was now gone. He turned his head to see Melina standing there shivering in the cold a few feet away, holding their daughter in her arms and propped with a hip. Their familiar faces reminded him that he wasn't alone.

"Yea," he said meekly. With one last lingering gaze at his mother's resting place, he placed a hand on Melina's back and started for the car.

He hated cemeteries. There was just an overwhelming sense of loss, of grief that never really went away. It was never happy, always gloomy. For him it was even more so than that; it was a place he never wanted to revisit, for good reason. However, it was the only way he could visit with his one true parent.

The day of her funeral had been rough. He hadn't even attended. That had made his guilt multiply and it was something he couldn't quite himself forgive. Just barely an adult and coping through life, in the same manner as she had -and it ultimately killed her- if it weren't for Sting, Gryder would have died. Lying next to her in the ground where he now stood.

He supposed he should be thankful.

A nostalgic part of him wanted to visit the man as well, though still, no one knew where his remains were located.

A fraction of a memory of that night flashed across his thoughts. A night he would never forget. Many things had happened. Many things had changed. His green eyes shifted from the grass ahead to the woman beside him.

It was her. The change.

Looking down at her hand on their daughter's leg across her stomach, he saw the sparkle of the diamond on her finger. A small smile replaced the frown he had been wearing. She had helped him become a better person. Her whole family had. They took him in without question -well maybe there had been a few. They had become his world.

As they neared the blacktop lane separating the cemetery sections, the smell of smoke in the cold, thin air wafted to him. Gajeel leaned against the door, a half a cigarette between his thumb and forefinger. Gryder's eyes immediately went to his mother-in-law still sitting inside the vehicle. She looked a little annoyed, but gave him a smile as they approached.

Some time after Melina's rescue, Gajeel had taken up smoking again, much to Levy's protesting. It wasn't as if he smoked a pack a week like he used to do, way back when. The days when bodies were young and more agile. He made a pack last a month, only lighting when stress was just too much at the current moment.

He turned his head to blow the smoke through the side of his mouth and saw them. He didn't say anything. Just nodded at Gryder as Melina put Briella in her booster seat.

"Where to now, boss?" He asked as he snuffed out the cigarette; it was too disrespectful to throw the filter on the ground even if he had been finished with it.

Gryder gave a quiet snort and rounded the vehicle until he stood behind his father-in-law. He briefly altered his voice into an accent. "Home, Charles." His breath twirled in a vanishing cloud of vapor through his mischievous grin.

Gajeel rolled his eyes and yanked the driver's door open.

"How are you doing?" Levy asked, turning to face the backseat to look at him. She knew visiting graves could fill one full of anxiety.

Clicking in the seatbelt across his chest, Gryder nodded. "Fine. I'm sure Rhett's not though."

She faced the front again and sat back against the seat. "I'm sure he's managing."

With a tsk, Gajeel turned the engine, the vehicle coming to life with a dull roar. He glanced at his tiny wife.

The years had been kind to her. People often mistook her for her daughter's sister. Grey hair was now starting to mingle with her blue locks, but most times the sunlight would make her hair seem just shades lighter instead of aging.

"Do you even know your son?" He asked calmly, his voice thick with sarcasm. A slight tinge of smoke floated from his grey coat as he spoke. He shifted his gaze to the windshield before him. "Rhett couldn't handle a flyswatter, let alone a five year old."

Gryder let out a rough laugh, not bothering to hide his amusement from Levy.

"Excuse me, he's fully capable of babysitting his nephew for a few hours," she said easily. She kept her head facing the passenger window, but her lips fought against a grin.

"I don't know. Owen is challenging."

"Yea." Gajeel looked at Gryder in the rearview. His rough voice spoke, but only his eyes were seen, narrowing and glistening. "He gets that from your wife."

Melina, quiet until that comment, opened her mouth. Her frank tone added to her dry, yet fiery personality. "Hey. I'm right here."

Levy waited until the snickers quieted. "Just wait until Briella is a teenager."

"Mother," Melina hissed. Her glanced at her daughter in the seat between herself and her husband. "You do realize I'm gonna tell Rhett all of this, right."

The car approached the entrance gate and they waited on a clear opening in traffic.

It was easy for Gryder, this family. He loved every member. His heart was full and light all at the same time. The smile on his face was permanently fixed on his lips. How had he lived without this? How had he grown up thinking that his life was ordinary, that it could not possibly get any better? His eyes had been opened to pleasant opportunities and experiences, and he was never going to close them again.

"I guess we'll see." Gajeel pulled out onto the road.

The vehicle slowly drove up the gravel drive, towards the house Gajeel and Levy had bought just before Melina was born. Gryder waited for Melina by the passenger door while the others made their way up the porch steps. Briella had fallen asleep on the ride back. She looked so peaceful when Melina straightened, her small curly-haired head resting on her mother's shoulder.

Melina let Gryder kiss the top of her head before she turned for the house and said easily, "Five bucks says Rhett's asleep."

Gryder's brows furrowed but his lips turned up in one corner. "You're on."

The two of them entered the house to the sight of Gajeel hovering over the back of the couch. Rhett was asleep. Between his eyes was black scribbling connecting his eyebrows as well as above his top lip. Gajeel held up his phone and snapped a picture of his son, shaking his head.

Gryder took a breath; he dug his wallet out from his back pocket and handed Melina a five.

"Bettin' on your brother's failures," Gajeel murmured darkly. "I raised you well."

Owen hurried up to his father, giggling the entire way. He pointed to Rhett. "Look what I did!"

There were crayola markers and a few coloring books on the coffee table. A cartoon channel was still on the tv. Owen had been contently watching it on the floor when they walked in, lying on his stomach with his head propped up on his hands.

Crouching next to his son by the couch, Gryder took the black marker, uncapping it. "Nice work, buddy. But you forgot to connect the goatee."

He lightly connected the sides of the mustache on either side of Rhett's mouth and started on the part below his lower lip. Gajeel raised his voice at a near yell to wake him up.

"Dammit Rhett, your mother and I can't count on you for nothin'."

He woke with a start.

Gryder quickly discarded the marker and picked up Owen. He joined Levy and Melina in the kitchen, hearing muffled voices before a disgusted shout and a deep laugh.

Melina casually walked up to her two boys she loved the most and lifted her fist for Owen to bump with his own.

Levy shook her head but mostly ignored them as she prepared their lunch. Rhett had decided not to go to college like Galen. He was content to work at the auto shop with his father. He was good with his hands, taking after Gajeel in that he found pleasure in fixing broken things.

When he finally joined them at the dining table for Sunday lunch, his face was red from excessive scrubbing. Although the black was faded, it wasn't completely gone. He glared at Owen from across the table, but laughed when his nephew just smiled at him from the safety between his parents.

"I think I'm going to print out the picture and hang it on the wall at work," Gajeel stated as he fluffed his mashed potatoes with his fork before lifting it to his mouth.

"It wasn't my fault," Rhett complained weakly. His skin was raw and hurt any time he made an expression.

Melina dropped her shoulders. "You gave him markers, Rhett. Everything about that is your fault."

"And then fell asleep," Gryder added with a chuckle. Melina made a point to flick her wrist towards him while she looked at her brother. Even though they liked to roast him, they did so lovingly.

Levy gently set her drinking glass down onto the table. "I think it's forgivable, we all mess up."

With a stuffed mouth, Gajeel murmured, "I remember you dropped Rhett as a baby and cried..."

His tiny wife had heard the comment loud and clear though. She shot a frown in his direction and held up her butter knife.

Movement from the living room caught Melina's eye as Briella slipped feet first from the couch. The toddler wandered towards the table, still groggy from her nap. She set down her glass, preparing to rise from her seat when Gryder beat her to it.

He met the little girl as she threw her small arms up to him and lifted her to his chest. Melina quietly watched him tend to their daughter while everyone else ate and conversed. The man was loving and caring. There was not a mean bone in his body. And for the life of her, Melina couldn't understand why he had been involved with the drugs of his past to begin with.

It wasn't his nature. Not now anyway.

He now murmured close to Briella's face and she nodded, and he made her a small plate of food.

Melina tried not to frown along with her thoughts. As she chewed, she mused over the fact that he hadn't told her much of his past. She knew some bits and pieces, but not in detail. Until recently Melina hadn't known about his mother, that she was buried in a small cemetery a few counties west. Every time she had tried to pry deep enough to learn more about the man she loved, he would change the subject with a distraction. Or completely shut down.

The more she tried, the more frustrated Gryder became. Eventually she stopped. Arguments were on the verge of starting and she didn't want that to push a wedge in between them. If anything, for the children's sakes.

And she listened wholeheartedly when he finally began to reveal himself layer by layer. It was slow going. Whenever he decided to let go, she was there. He would have never gone to counseling of any kind, but for those moments when it was just the two of them, it was as if he released years of pent up emotional and mental stress.

He had had it rough.

Though that kind of life he grew up in didn't take away from his soft heart. Love was something he cherished. Which was why Melina found it difficult to imagine his life before her. As selfish as she thought she sounded.

Her husband's voice drew her from her thoughts.

"...I guess so," he was saying as he sat down with Briella on his lap. "Just keep it down."

Owen scooted his chair and ran into the living room to watch what was still airing on the screen.

Shaking her head, she stood up to take her son's plate to the sink. She hoped no one saw the tears welling up in her eyes, but with Gajeel and Rhett arguing about something across the table as was usual, she was sure no one would look up.

Gryder noticed her silence in the midst of the lively argument about the right brand of paper plates. He caught her eye after she rinsed off the ceramic plate under the faucet, narrowing his eyes to convey his interest in her problem. She ignored him.

He promptly handed Levy his daughter so she could continue eating and went to his wife. Touching the small of her back, he began discreetly, "You were fine a minute ago. What's wrong." He watched as she scrubbed the dish.

With his face inches from hers, Melina breathed out. "It's nothing, honestly."

"Don't give me that shit," he murmured, pushing closer and loosely wrapping his large hand around her upper arm. He was genuinely confused. "What's going on?"

The tears were dangerously close to falling. It was something she didn't want to do here. Now. She wanted to wait until they were home, as she had planned. Leaning away from him, she put the plate she had just cleaned and dried into the cupboard above her. She huffed when he tightened his hand on her.

"You said awhile ago that you didn't have any siblings."

"Yea?" Gryder's tone was one of confusion. "What's this have to do with anything? Why're you about to cry about it?"

Her red eyes looked up into his green ones. "I-I don't want that for our kids."

She knew he wasn't following exactly what she was thinking. It hurt her heart to think that he had no one until later in life, and even then it was the wrong kind of people. Half of his life was over and it had taken that long to find a real family to love him. Transferring those thoughts to her children made her full heart ache.

In his eyes she saw a wonder, a sense of excitement. Afterall it had been his idea to continue having more children. His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "I thought you didn't want to after-"

Melina shifted her weight and abruptly crossed her arms over her breasts. A single tear dropped from her lower lashes as she looked at his waist. She quietly cut him off. "Well I do now."

"Ok."

Gryder wrapped his arms around her, gingerly pulling her to him. The revelation was something he had not been expecting. His hopes for many children had died when Melina miscarried their third baby. It was devastation to the family to have heard that news. His wife had wanted nothing to do with night time activities other than sleeping for a long time.

And for her sake he had relented. Two healthy, happy children were better than none at all. When those four words escaped through Melina's lips, his gut had dropped. Maybe this next time she would carry to term. Nervous excitement coursed through him.

Melina had apparently felt it as well. She pushed herself away from him and put a little distance between them. "Not right now," she whispered. Her finger wiped away the one rogue tear and then she touched the front of his jeans with the other. She pressed her hand hard into him, eliciting a near inaudible groan, his face inches from her mouth. "But later."

"Tonight?" Gryder rasped in effort to keep his hands to himself. His eyes were glued to her glossed lips.

Her head nodded deliberately slowly, keeping eye contact with a smirk. Gryder's lips pressed together. She was teasing him. Any other time it would have been annoying. However going several months without that kind of attention and now without warning, it was definitely desired.

Before she could return to finish eating and help feed Briella, Gryder caught her with his hands on either side of her face. He roughly pressed his lips to hers. They lingered there for a moment until the kiss was softly deepened.

"Oi, none of that under my roof," Gajeel's voice rose. He had his arms crossed on the table, his elbows on the edge. He suspiciously observed them for a second. "Take it outside."

Gryder broke the contact with his wife, letting her leave the kitchen with a smile on her face. He stood there facing away from the dining room, willing a low part of him to subside. He shook his head.

"Hey Owen," he called loudly. "You wanna spend the night here with your sister tonight?"

"Oh that's a wonderful idea!" Levy chimed, ignorant to their secret plans. She smiled at her granddaughter on her lap. Owen let out an animated holler and ran to the table to confirm it with his mother.

Once he was able, Gryder abruptly left the kitchen, sniffing as he did. He locked eyes with Gajeel as he made his way to his seat beside Melina. The look on the old man's face was priceless; he was not stupid. He glared at his son-in-law, but said nothing as he sat down with a growing grin.

A small vibration on the table caused Rhett to snatch up his phone. He read the text and causally stood up. "I'm gonna be out for a while." He stuffed the phone in his pocket and took his plate to the kitchen.

Saying a quick goodbye, Rhett pulled on his coat and hurriedly slipped out the front door before anyone could ask him further questions. Gajeel frowned after him. "What the hell was that all about?"

"Maybe he's got a date," Gryder said, half joking. He knocked back the rest of his beverage.

"I hope he knows he can bring her here," Levy said with a sad tinge to her voice. It had been a while since her children had brought home someone romantically.

"If his date's a 'she'." Melina was promptly smacked on the arm with the back of Levy's hand.

Gryder turned to Gajeel, who had stood up to look out the window. He grabbed Melina's hand to hold it under the table. "I'm sure he's fine. It's probably just a new relationship, he'll bring the lucky lady around some time."

Gajeel hummed in response, his humming against the glass loud in his ears. He watched Rhett hop into his truck and head down the drive. Taking a deep breath, he agreed with his other son and tried not to let a newfound worry consume his thoughts. He was accustomed to different and random vibes, especially with a similar background with that of his only daughter's husband.

He just could not shake a familiar one revolving around her younger brother.


	3. Wounds Mend

**AN** : This is a sequel to _Fighting Redfox_ , which you must read first in order to understand the events of this story. Both stories are interconnected.

I had been struggling to write for sometime since my brother's death involving heroin. As I wrote in _Fighting Redfox_ , this sequel contains drug usage; not all who are drowning within the drug's hold are bad people. Not at all. Sadly they just made one bad choice. The rest were made against their wishes, against their better judgement, which could have/may have led to their untimely end. It's not up to us to determine their fate, but we must help them do what is right through encouragement. This story has strong redemption themes as well: _there is_ still _hope for the ones still caught in narcotic traps._

Note that I am unwilling to discuss opinions over drug usage/addiction in general in the reviews/comments, as that is reserved for the story itself. If you wish to speak with me regarding the topic, feel free to PM me.

 _Fighting Redfox and Finding Gryder are dedicated to my brother, Brian._

 **Storyline** : [AU] Recruited by Sting, Mest Gryder begins his descent down a dark path that carries him to the better half of his life. With a family of his own now, he knows about sacrifice. After witnessing a crime, he and Gajeel again enter the struggle against the destructive life they had rejected. It's the fight of a lifetime for both father and son in this Fighting Redfox sequel. [Two plot converg/lemons] _*Major character death warning_

Two separate plots - the past and the present - collide as events unfold.

*Rated Mature - There is intense language, violence, drug usage, and some sexual situations. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

*I do not own any of the media.

*I do not own any of Fairy Tail - that's all Hiro Mashima.

* * *

 **AN** : This chapter is Gryder's past, which all Past sections will be italicized just like I had written in Fighting Redfox.

** - 'footnote' for _Fighting Redfox_ excerpt

If you have read most of my works, then you know there is a purpose for the certain details within the two plots and the bottom Present section here, which is basically all lemon. ...you're welcome...

There could be errors. I'll edit it later. I wanted to get this out before I went to work.

* * *

 **Chapter Two** \- _Wounds Mend_

 _The smell of a familiar smoke entered his nostrils. It was sweet, but at the same time, there was a musty staleness. Unfortunately, he was now awake, though he kept his eyes closed. The longer he laid there in his bed, the stronger that scent became. All he wanted to do was sleep. He had never been a morning person._

 _He silently cursed the one who woke him up in the small, single-wide mobile home._

 _Dragging himself to the edge of his bed under protest, Gryder sat there with his elbows on his knees. He held his face in his hands. His whole head was killing him. It felt as if he had taken a beating. Heaviness weighed him down, like he had bricks tied to his mass of curling brown hair. A groan threatened to become audible in his throat, but if he let it loose, he might puke._

 _Slowly he stood up, keeping himself steady with a hand to his broken dresser. Pulling on his gym shorts and a grey t-shirt that probably smelled a bit like the night before, he hobbled out of his small glorified bedroom, which was actually closer in likeness to a walk-in closet. He stumbled down the short, narrow hall to the bathroom._

 _The door was locked. He took a breath and turned to head back down the smoke-filled hall._

 _When he entered the living room, he was met with a more pungent scent of burning plant and a scratchy female voice. "And where were you last night?"_

 _Gryder's mother sat on the cigarette-burned loved seat in her flower-printed bathrobe. On the short coffee table before her was a tapered glass bowl smaller than his palm and a few lighters. A clear sandwich bag of brownish green nuggets was twisted shut and lying in the open._

 _He scowled. "If you're in here, then who's takin' a shit in the bathroom?"_

" _Don't worry about it," his mother replied. "Answer my question, Mest."_

 _Gryder rolled his eyes and ignored her as he walked past to the kitchen._

 _He never took her seriously anymore. All she did was get high, have sex with strange, random men, and waited for it all to happen again the next day. If she did work her shift at the gas station down the street, it wasn't to make an income to keep the pathetic excuse for a home. If she didn't get anything pleasurable out of it, then it wasn't worth her time._

 _Which is why Gryder assumed she didn't want him, but had to care for him out of obligation since he was still seventeen._

 _She let him do whatever he pleased, though when he didn't do what she told him to or wanted, she tried to act the like the good, responsible parent that she was most definitely not. It was too late for respect if that's what she wanted. The once pretty and polite woman he called his mom was now just an ugly bitch._

" _Hey, don't walk away from me!" her voice rose, and then she began a bout of coughing from the smoke she had earlier inhaled._

 _Quickly rummaging through the kitchen for some sort of breakfast before he left, he absently listened to her hacking. On the tiny countertops were a number of empty beer cans and large liquor bottles half full with a golden liquid. At the sight of them he felt the queasiness of a hangover emerge from the pit of his stomach. The trashcan next to the refrigerator was piling up. No one but him could be bothered enough to take it out to the curb. His upper lip curled up in disgust; he lived in a goddamned trashed mess._

 _Not finding anything to eat for on the go, he felt the queasiness become a little more aggressive. The only thing that made it subside was more alcohol or to smoke something, and he had already been in trouble multiple times at school for drinking -not that it really mattered much._

 _He came back to the coffee table just as his mother had gotten her coughing fit under some control. Snatching up the bowl and one of the lighters, he lit the black-singed plant packed into it while he sucked in a deep breath. The white smoke entered his lungs and he held it for a few seconds. There was a bitter aftertaste in his mouth as he slowly released the breath. The same white smoke flew from his mouth in a puffy cloud._

" _Feel better?" she asked. She frowned, but didn't move to reprimand or take the bowl from him._

 _Lighting up the bowl again, he sucked in another breath, though not as deep, and quickly let it out before tossing it back to her. He pocketed the yellow lighter._

" _You never answered my question."_

" _I was out."_

 _His mother eyed him. "I'm aware. Where were you?"_

" _Why the hell do you care?" he viciously spat._

 _Anger flared up inside his chest, though he felt his hostile emotions dying down now that he had smoked the weed. And it was the good kind. It began to calm him him, as well as his stomach. Maybe he could now function with the killer hangover he had expected. The baggie must have been particularly expensive; he automatically wondered what kind of man was in their bathroom._

 _Kicking up his black backpack he moved towards the front door, but remembered if he wanted anything to eat that day, he needed his phone. With a scowl, Gryder marched back to his room to grab it off its charger. As he emerged, the man who had spent the night with his mother popped out of the bathroom._

 _It was a wretched sight._

 _In his underwear and nothing else, he looked like a fat, washed up CEO of a failed company with his balding hair and a faded mark on the finger where a wedding band used to be. He saw Gryder and tried to smile, only coming up with a false cheery "hey Sport" out of sheer surprise._

 _It had had to be one those guys. The ones who_ think _they are in the right even when they are wrong._

" _Fuck off," Gryder growled, and he continued without a hitch into the living room. He could feel the man's presence behind him. How dare he assume he knew what kind of person he was._ Hey Sport...

 _All he felt was pent up anger. He was mad at everything. Life was so unfair to the point of insanity. So many things went through his mind. What if he lost his phone, the only way to get a ride, to communicate with his friends, or communicate in general? What if he couldn't make any money? What if he got caught while trying to make that cash? What if he_ did _get a job? Then all his income would go towards his mother's shit habits. Never mind trying to make it on his own with her in the background._

 _As an afterthought, Gryder snatched up the weed bag and dumped a little out before his mom could yell at him. Some broken nuggets scattered over the glass; it was her half until she could get more or until she got ahold of stronger stuff, which was only a matter of time. A suspicious part of him suspected that she had already dabbled into it. Snorting, or maybe mainlining, but he would never know unless he saw her bare arms._

 _Continuous use of weed didn't make one physically look like his mother did nowadays._

 _With his mother's pissed off shouts with intermittent coughing behind him, Gryder stuffed what was left in the baggie into his backpack and walked out of the trailer without a second glance back, slamming the door shut. He was sure there would be moments where he could smoke some of it and then sell the rest to make a little cash between now and late tonight when he came home._

 _If he did._

 _Most nights he'd spend with his girlfriend or at his best friend's. His mother never bothered to find out where he was knowing that he had a phone and she could just call him._

 _Hastily walking down the street, Gryder flipped open the prepay phone and pressed a few buttons before bringing it to his face. "Hey man. Pick me up."_

" _Where ya at?"_

" _Where else?" he replied with a sarcastic tone. He fought to keep it neutral, as it should have been no surprise._

 _Walking to the end of the street, he waited by the stop sign for his friend's beat up chevy. It wasn't uncommon for Gryder to call him in the mornings before school and it never took long for Lahar -who lived a few blocks over in a one story- to meet him at the red sign at the four-way stop._

 _Kicking a rock across the street, Gryder looked up and noticed a man in a silver car in the parking lot of the corner gas station, diagonally across from where he stood. The man had blond hair and it looked like he was sipping from a disposable cup._

 _He turned when he heard the roar of an engine nearing. Gryder quickly approached the truck as it came to an abrupt halt. Lahar didn't wait for him to shut the door before he took off. With the black backpack in the middle of the bench seat, Gryder let out a breath._

" _You alright?" Lahar asked. His eyes stayed on the street._

" _Sure," Gryder said. "Did you notice the guy in the car back there?"_

 _Lahar squinted as he continued down the street, passing curbed and oncoming vehicles with ease. Everywhere he looked there were cars with people in them. "Uh, yea they're everywhere, man."_

 _Gryder turned in his seat. He had never seen that kind of car in their neighborhood. It was a nice looking car. A newer model. One of which the owner wouldn't want to find himself alone at night in the area. "You didn't see the Charger at the gas station?"_

" _Why the fuck would a nice car like that be doing in this shithole part of town?" Lahar spat. "Are you high or somethin'?"_

 _He was, but his friend did not need to know it. His eyes were glassy but he could hide the high very well. "No, it's just weird," he casually lied. He shut his mouth and remained quiet, content now to listen to the radio as the truck carried them towards the highway._

 _The town's school was now within view. It was a large brick building, the blacktop parking lot was just as large. It was already beginning to fill up with students who drove themselves. Gryder would have had a car had he been living another life; he didn't even have his licence thanks to his druggie mother._

 _The truck was parked and both boys hopped out. They migrated towards the entrances along with the rest of the arriving students. Green eyes smoothly searched out the teenagers he knew would be willing to part with their money for the weed he possessed. If he made enough, he wouldn't go hungry the next week._

 _Before he made it to the steps leading to the main set of double doors, he heard the sound of an engine loudly roar. It was not uncommon since the parking lot was nearby. However it the kind of deep, exciting throttle that vibrated one's insides if within close vicinity. He knew no one who lived in town would have owned something that rousing. That flashy._

 _He turned his head towards the road, stopping on one step. Kids passed him, a few bumping into his backpack slung over one shoulder. The same roar caught his attention. Sunlight flashed on the silver Charger's body. Gryder watched the blond man within guide the expensive car down the right side of the pavement._

 _Maybe he was too high to be sure. But he could swear it was the same man he saw in the same car a down the street from his home. And it looked as though he glanced towards him as he drove away._

* * *

" _At the end of the road, when you look back at the years that have been given to you, there is a peace._

 _You don't observe the bad times. The difficulties, the stress. You don't relive those points. There is only tranquility. Your eyes see everything, but your heart only views the best parts. There's no regrets. And if there happens to be one, it is that you should have done more with the love you had received. You should have loved more. Unapologetically. Truly._

 _That love you feel deep inside is something you don't hold back, ever…"_

The cool day had given way to a warmer evening. Earlier clear skies had vanished and in its wake were rolling grey clouds. By the time Gryder pulled up their drive, it was nearing dusk. The dark clouds hid the light of the setting sun, making it look much later in the night than it actually was.

Melina smiled as the two of them entered their home. It was messy, as two children would inevitably make it. There were more joys to having children, and even more cleaning. A pang of guilt hit her chest.

She looked at the toys her oldest had left in the living room, spread haphazardly across the carpet. She had been a little excited when her husband told them they would sleep over at her parents. Some grandparent loving was long overdue, but she knew Gryder had an alternate reason.

A reason that still made her stomach jolt. Was she ready? Really ready to take that expected step out of the darkness of her mindset? Negativity had always been present for her, maybe she had chosen it. Certainly not for her children.

But a large part of her wanted what only Gryder could give her. It was more than physical. It was in everything. There was reason.

Just like she had when they had first begun their complicated, yet thorough relationship. It seemed like such a long time ago, though it was only six years prior.

" _Entering through the open door, he strode purposefully towards the bed to set her down on the made up mattress. Melina righted herself, glancing at him in the process._

" _So your scheme worked?"_

" _Yea, I'm sure Sting knew what I was doing though." He absentmindedly wandered to the window._

" _He did? Is that a bad thing?"_

 _Gryder grunted, but shook his head. "Can't pull anything over on him. But he'll keep our secret."_

 _Melina nodded and checked her arms. The redness was beginning to fade, but the burn was still present. Her attention shifted from her roughed skin to the window. Gryder's back was turned to her. She slowly scanned down his backside, from his broad shoulders to his lean yet muscular frame, wondering why he did the things he did for her. The reasons he protected her._

" _Why do you care so much about what could happen to me?"_

 _The man she considered walked back to lean against the dresser across from her. His bright eyes observed the young woman sitting there on its edge. Lips slid back from his teeth in a rough smile._

" _How could I not?" He responded directly, haphazardly crossing his bare arms._

 _They were silent. The mood in the room was thick, and tension seemed to form a rope between them. It pulled on their torsos like an anchor sinks with weight. He tried to disregard his desire, but the pull intensified as he took in the sight. It was as if something about her, something deep and subconscious, was anchored to him in some intricate, fantastical way…"**_

She felt Gryder brush past her as he walked from the door at her back to turn on the dimmed lighting of their living room. It wasn't so bright as to disrupt her current thoughts. Thoughts of when things had been confusing and so simple at the same exact time.

" _Melina shivered as a breeze hit them. Immediately, Gryder let go of her hand to wrap his arm around her. His hand rubbed her upper arm while his other held the cigarette to his mouth. She looked up at him as he blew out a lungful of smoke._

" _Aside from the intimidating men across the table, tonight was nice. And interesting," she said nonchalantly, watching him tap the back passenger window in signal that the rest of them were about to arrive._

" _Yea? It would have been nicer if it was just the two of us," he replied in kind. "What made it interesting?"_

" _I mean, how many can say they listened in on an illegal deal?" She quietly murmured to him. "I'm relieved that I'm here and not on the other side of a deal." She indicated to the black vehicle._

 _He hugged her tighter as they simply stood in the empty parking space beside it. He sucked in a drag. "You will never be on that side."_

" _Ever?"_

" _You will never be on that side," he repeated reassuringly, pressing her close to him as he spoke, the words letting out the smoke into the night air. He tossed the cigarette filter onto the pavement and wrapped his free arm around her."**_

"Honey."

Words pulled Melina to the present.

She blinked up at the man she had loved since she was seventeen. The man who had been her first. Her first of everything. He stood in front of her, lovingly gazing down into her red eyes. His hand touched her elbow.

"You ok?"

She stirred, nodding vigorously, then turned to hang her purse up on the coat rack by the door. "Yea, yes. I just feel bad for leaving the kids."

"They'll be fine for the night. I think they were excited to get away from their parents for once," he said with a chuckle. "Owen anyway."

He understood where her thoughts were at when it came to their children. He loved them with his whole heart, and to have them be away for a night was a little hard. However, his intentions with their mother didn't involve them in the slightest.

Melina smiled and kissed him. She pushed the memories of Briella crying for her when they had left her in Levy's arms. It hurt her, pulled at her insides. All she could think about was the baby she had never gotten the chance to really meet. Crying. Dying.

Her eyes squeezed shut.

"Is there any wine leftover?"

Melina desperate wanted to forget that moment in her life.

Gryder's lips slid back, revealing white teeth in a smile. The poor man was oblivious to her mental torture. He strode towards the kitchen, retrieving a bottle of a dry red wine he had had chilling. He held it up in answer. While he prepared their drinks, she came up to the counter and leaned her top half onto it with an inaudible sigh.

Her long, wavy black hair draped over her shoulder, the ends dancing over the island countertop. She took a deep breath and forced certain thoughts from her mind. Tonight she did not want to think about the past. Only the now. And the future.

She was never good at self discipline.

Instead she focused on her husband as he pulled two glasses down from the cabinet they rarely got into much at all and pulled off the cork on the nearly fully bottle of Pinot Noir. He poured her round glass halfway and did the same for himself, and took a long sip, watching her.

He saw she was a little worked up. He said in an upbeat tone, "It'll be ok, Melina. Just relax. Enjoy the night."

She smelled the liquid, the bitter scent, and took a tiny sip. She didn't drink much. Her children usually prevented it. But they were not there this time to subconsciously stop her. It was rare that both parents had the house to themselves with enough time to enjoy adult pleasures. She tipped the drink back as she quickly drank.

"We don't have to," Gryder mentioned gently. He sensed her unease.

"No, I want to, it's just… just, I…" Melina's words trailed off. They hadn't had sexual relations since the miscarriage. It hadn't been that long. There was a mingle of emotions, she could not establish just why she was apprehensive.

Maybe she was trying too hard.

"It's just the first time in a while. I get it." Gryder slid the wine bottle out of the way with a nod. "But this is something we're both gonna have to get past if we want to move forward in our s-"

Melina perked up before he finished his sentence. Her brow furrowed. "Get past? I just gotta 'get past' what happened? Is that right," she snapped.

Gryder gave her a look. "I didn't say it like that."

A small fire had ignited in Melina's chest. There was a pang of jealousy as well as a stab in the heart that made her want to sob; was this whole sensitive subject that easy for him to get over? It hadn't even been a year since the miscarriage.

"Really, well how did you say it? Did you mean it like that? 'Cause to me it meant that I'm still to blame," she spat. She spun around and marched towards the stairs.

"Hold up," he said. His voice was on edge and he set the drink in his hand down onto the island in front of him and went after her. She has started up the stairs when he stopped at the first step, leaning a hand on the ornate bannister. "I never said it was your fault. Ever. I said both of us. We both need to get on. We're in this together."

Melina halted in the middle of the stairwell. She glanced down at him, tensing. "Oh, like my miscarriage actually hurt you as it did me. You didn't have to do a damn thing after she was conceived. She died _inside_ of me, Gryder! You really think we're in this together?!" A hot tear slid down the side of her cheek.

His lips had pressed together as she shouted at him, looking at the step she stood on instead of her distressed face. His fists clenched. Her words punctured his heart.

He couldn't take that.

"Dammit Melina, you can't see past your own self pity! The day you told me you lost the baby was devastating to me! I was there, and I let you have space. That was as much for me as it was for you! _I_ had to heal too. That was my _daughter_!" He roared and pointed his finger at himself and then at her stomach. His anger projected towards her. "You're going to have to pull your head out of your ass now and at least attempt to get better, to do it for the kids we _do_ have. God forbid you just do it for your husband!"

He took a breath. He felt that his face was reddened in his sudden anger. The words kept pouring from him like a broken dam, and like it, he couldn't stop them even when he tried. He suffered too, and maybe she needed to see that finally. His voice became a little softer, but the firm, warning edge was still present with his enunciated words.

"I love you, Melina. I do. I'd die for you. But we can only get so far on our own, ourselves. Let me help you. Help me. The way we should together."

His wife took a step up and away from him. In her eyes was anguish, as well as a little fear. He had never spoken to her like that. Never accused her of anything with such ferocity as when he first had just then. The sound of his voice caused her a small panic. She bit it down and continued up the stairs.

"Melina!" Gryder called after her. He rushed up to the second floor landing as she slammed their bedroom door.

There wasn't a lock on either side of the door knob. He scowled, knowing she had done that out of anger, to spite him. He burst his way through to find his wife around the corner in the master bathroom, hunched over the sink. He saw himself in the mirror behind her small form.

"Melina, don't do this right now."

Her words were thickening. "You never said anything. That day and after. You never said a word to me about it, how was I supposed to take your silence?! My father said more! Did more."

Gryder shifted his weight. His arm spread out in the air. " _My_ silence?" He gestured to himself. "When you said 'I need space' I gave it to you, no questions asked. I thought I was doing what you wanted! I did more for you then than at any other time. You fought me when I reached out for you."

Melina's shoulders shook a few times. Her eyes flickered into the mirror, seeing him stand some feet behind her near the bathroom entry. Their bed was straight across behind him. Her gaze returned to the sink.

"I suffered in more ways than one. And you stood by like nothing was wrong." Her anger had subsided and it was replaced with a deep emptiness. Tears kept flowing from her reddened, puffy eyes. Her hands slowly came up to her abdomen. Her shirt covered her skin, her fingers brushed over the outside material. She looked at him through the mirror again.

"I-I needed you… I carried her for three months and, and she d-died… Mest, she _died_..."

Gryder immediately left the place he stood to go to her. He spun her around and his arms tightly enveloped her, bringing her front flush against his. She began to heavily sob into his chest. Taking a ragged breath, he went to say something, but he choked. His lips clamped shut and his jaw clenched.

No words could be formed now. Not after what she had confessed. They were lost in his mind. His own tears threatened to spill over his face then as he hugged her tighter. Melina had used his first name. She never did that. And he instantly forgave her for rising against him; she was hurting emotionally, mentally, and hadn't completely been dealt with yet. He understood.

He had felt the same more or less. They had been acting as though they were good. Fine. Ok even after what had happened. Like they had moved on, though it was apparent it was not the case. Repressed emotions were coming to light later than was needed or wanted. How could he fault her? He buried his nose into her hair and kissed it, breathing the familiar scent in while she let out pent up stress.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry," he urgently whispered. He listened to her cry, knowing he was about to as well. He could feel bits of his shirt wet with her tears. Her voice was muffled against him, her hands fiercely gripped his torso.

"How, how can we move on…" Melina sobbed. "It still hurts. I lost our baby."

"Shh… I know. It hurts. But it wasn't on purpose. You didn't do it." His hand cupped the back of her head as he held onto her. He had to be strong. If not for himself, for her. "We will do this together. I love you."

Melina's cries subsided as they stood in an embrace for several minutes. He took a deep breath, which prompted her to do the same.

"I love you too," she mumbled and sniffled. "And I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He tilted her head up to look her in the eye. His thumb wiped the moisture from under her eyes, which prompted a smile to appear as she held his gaze.

"So now what?" Melina asked. She took another deep breath, regaining her normal self. She felt stupid for overreacting, but also not completely sorry as it forced them to talk about a sore topic. Both had needed it.

Gryder's eyes softened. His other thumb glided over her cheekbone and his fingers combed over the hair behind her temples.

He gently touched his lips to hers and pulled back enough to view her face.

"Why-" she started but was silenced by his warm lips again.

"Shh."

His solid, muscular arms again wrapped around her, but they weren't urgent. They weren't in frustration. It was loving. Both his lips and hands were slow to move. When he breathed, Melina felt the warm air on her skin.

She was a little confused by his actions. Especially after having an argument. She let him though. It gave her a small comfort. Her husband was being considerate of her feelings. He was asking. Something in general he had not done since… since the news… since he had given her the spaced she had needed.

Now that space was gone. She didn't want it back.

Gryder's lips finally moved on hers and he sucked in a small, silent breath through his nose. His eyes briefly flickered open to see that her own were closed. He ever so slightly leaned into her, his lips still on hers. He barely moved them, hoping to prompt her. When she let out the breath she had been holding, he tilted his head and kissed her with a little more ardor.

Hands were then on either side of her and she was lifted onto the small counter beside the sink. His slim waist then slipped between her thighs. She could feel as well as see what was happening through her closed eyes.

Gryder's lips on hers, the feel of his biceps under her fingers, the tingling his touch created when his hands pressed to her sides dropped a few inches to settle below her ribs, it all created the slow ache now growing hot between her legs.

The kiss slowly deepened. Gryder's mouth enveloped hers. He took a shallow breath and then his tongue slipped in without breaking the lock their lips had formed. His body was now leaning over her, trying to get even closer as his hips touched the inside of her thighs.

He buried his tongue against her own and took her ass into his hands and pulled until the apex of her legs hit the zipper of his jeans. When she took a needed lungful of air, it was deep and breathy. She sighed against him, her hands sliding up his arms and underneath his short sleeves.

There was a cold when Gryder took his hands away. Opening her eyes, Melina saw him pull the t-shirt over his head. He threw it aside onto the carpeted floor. His green eyes were half lidded, staring at her lips, her eyes, and then her plump lips once again.

He rushed back to her mouth like it was magnetized to his own, his tongue re entering and resuming its mission. Movements now were firm, deliberate. Her fingertips pressed onto his skin, rubbing over his shoulders and down onto his chest.

She pulled back, taking her hands away from his chest to the buttons on the front of her shirt. She watched his eyes grow darker, needier as the fasteners started coming undone.

With all thoughts of their argument or its topic gone from her mind, Melina teased him with unhurried motions at her breasts. The tops of her cleavage spilled into the dim light from within the shirt. Before she could finish with the last of the buttons, Gryder had done it for her.

With a slight growl, tore the material away from her, it landing on the floor beside his own clothing. His wife was left with a bra, which would easily come off later.

Taking her mouth again, he slipped his hands under her and pulled her off the counter. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he left the bathroom and traveled the steps it took to make it to their bed. He gently set her backside on the mattress and then unzipped his jeans to tug them off until he leaned in between her in only his boxers.

In a matter of moments, the two of them were completely without clothing, lying together on the bed sheets. It had been a while since their last session, and he knew Melina would be calling the shots. He had asked her. And she had consented. The only way they could move past was to do the one thing that kept them apart. As man and wife. The way it was supposed to be.

Lightning and a crack of thunder told them the storm had finally arrived. The rain beat down on the roof, creating a steady rhythm. "We would be sitting on the porch during a storm," Melina mentioned as Gryder's lips gave her neck attention.

It was his intention to help her let go. To loosen up so they could work together toward a happier future. He could give in to their desires now, or make her forget the past. At least momentarily. At least this way they could help each other now as well.

"The porch is gonna hafta wait…" he replied.

His throaty voice was somewhat muffled by her skin. He could feel his erection at its peak. His face slid down her stomach. He caught her attention when his tongue pressed into her lower folds. A harsh intake of breath and a small, sensual moan told him she was now all his.

He grabbed her thighs and threw them over his shoulder, pulling her wet core to him while he pushed his tongue into her. The flat of his tongue dragged deep in between the glistening slit, gathering her moisture each time he did so. Each time Melina's moans grew.

Fingers entwined in his dark, messy mass of hair, while the other hand gripped the sheets above her head. She felt his tongue dip down into her and drag up until his teeth grazed her sensitive nub now demanding the man's attention.

"..ah-haaahh…" she moaned. Her half groan, half sigh grew with intensity as Gryder's mouth closed around her clitoris and began to suck. His tongue flicked at it and swirled a combination of her secretions and his own silva.

Her hips bucked against his face. "Ohhh… yeaahh… uuhhnng..." She breathed and sucked in another shallow breath before moaning it all over again.

He pushed her legs wider and started hard on her clit with his tongue, and added two fingers to pump into her. Melina's hands gripped her knees to keep them as wide as they could go, letting him focus on pleasuring her. Her arousal was on its high, her moans were desperate, her hips wanting to buck but knowing if they did, she'd cum before she really wanted to.

Gryder heard all of her cries. He felt her muscles contracting. She pulled at his hair, but it was no bother to him; he rather liked it. His tongue was getting tired, but if he got her off now, he could take his time later. And it would be easier to get her off again, but not with his mouth.

He slowed his ministrations, withdrawing his fingers, which were now slimy and wet. He listened to Melina's breathing, giving her a chance to relax her muscles. Kissing her legs, he gradually made his way back to her core, though this time he focused all on her nub with intent.

He sucked and flicked and swirled nonstop -just the way she had told him to many times before- and she squirmed beneath him. Melina finally came with a short burst, her breath hitching and her legs tensing around his shoulders. He kissed her overly sensitive clit, getting a quick jerk in response.

Gryder was more than ready now. She gazed at him through half lidded eyes and gave a lazy smile. She invited him, opening her legs once again. He knelt between her open legs. Before he could enter her, thunder cracked outside and a flash of lightning left them in the dark. The power went out.

"Great," Gryder mumbled. "I wonder how that's holding up at your parents." He momentarily thought of their kids. They didn't do well in the dark.

"Honey, it's ok," Melina stated below him. There was a rustle on top of the sheets. "Forget about it for tonight. Enjoy the night. That's what you told me. We are moving on. Together."

He tensed when he felt a hand on his erection. His wife stroked him, her hand starting at the base and sliding up to the head, where her thumb rubbed over the tip. He shuddered, his breath ragged.

"What are you doing…" he asked with a slight play in his voice. He knew.

In the dark, he groaned and closed his eyes as she went to work on him, giving what she rarely gave.

His teeth bit his bottom lip, his hand grasping the back of her hair and gently pushing down and pulling back up. Another larger moan escaped his now open mouth.

He wasn't going to be able to hold out. Not while she did that to him. _That_ good. The muscles around his hips and ass cheeks involuntarily jerked. "Baby you gotta sstop…" he ground out with effort.

"Mmhm-"

Gryder grabbed the base of his cock and squeezed, letting out the long "eff" in one of his favorite curse words in a rough, unfinished sigh before his body had the chance to betray him.

"Hey, I wasn't done yet," Melina said, her voice giving a playful accusation. She sat back onto the sheets. Her head found a pillow.

Giving her a once over and stirring from the way she was lying, Gryder flashed her a devilish grin. He quickly darted to her middle.

Her giggles and relaxed submission to his dominance invited him to immediately position himself to enter her. There in the dark amidst pleasured cries, sweat, and meaningful touches, the two of them gave each other all of themselves. More and more the broken pieces began to mend, eventually to knit together to form a stronger bond than what had been.

Neither regretted what was. Their focus was on nothing other than the moment between them and what it meant.

 _I would die for you._


	4. Hidden Skills

**AN** : This is a sequel to _Fighting Redfox_ , which you must read first in order to understand the events of this story. Both stories are interconnected.

I had been struggling to write for sometime since my brother's death involving heroin. As I wrote in _Fighting Redfox_ , this sequel contains drug usage; not all who are drowning within the drug's hold are bad people. Not at all. Sadly they just made one bad choice. The rest were made against their wishes, against their better judgement, which could have/may have led to their untimely end. It's not up to us to determine their fate, but we must help them do what is right through encouragement. This story has strong redemption themes as well: _there is_ still _hope for the ones still caught in narcotic traps._

Note that I am unwilling to discuss opinions over drug usage/addiction in general in the reviews/comments, as that is reserved for the story itself. If you wish to speak with me regarding the topic, feel free to PM me.

 _Fighting Redfox and Finding Gryder are dedicated to my brother, Brian._

 **Storyline** : [AU] Recruited by Sting, Mest Gryder begins his descent down a dark path that carries him to the better half of his life. With a family of his own now, he knows about sacrifice. After witnessing a crime, he and Gajeel again enter the struggle against the destructive life they had rejected. It's the fight of a lifetime for both father and son in this Fighting Redfox sequel. [Two plot converg/lemons] _*Major character death warning_

Two separate plots - the past and the present - collide as events unfold.

*Rated Mature - There is intense language, violence, drug usage, and some sexual situations. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

*I do not own any of the media.

*I do not own any of Fairy Tail - that's all Hiro Mashima.

 **AN** : _I watched a lot of the show Graceland, just like I did for Fighting Redfox. Also the movie The Departed. If you like crime dramas, then those are my recommendations._

 _I understand that some components of being an undercover agent that I've written would not fly in real life, but for the sake of the story._

 _There is drug usage in this chapter. A disclaimer right now that I do not condone the using of any kind of drug. The only reason I know so much about this crap is cuz I read and I watch too much TV/movies._

* * *

 **Chapter Three** \- _Hidden Skills_

Melina checked the time on her phone for the third time that morning. Her husband was usually an on-time kind of person, if not early. Today, he was going to be late for work if he didn't hurry. She gave Brielle small pieces of banana, placing them onto her plate, then turned towards the stairs. "It's almost 7:30!" she called.

Not long after, she heard his rushed footsteps down the carpeted stairs. He emerged at the landing at a clipped pace. His hair was washed, but the rest of him surprised her. It wasn't his usual button up and slacks. He wore clothing that seemed more appropriate for a workout than an office job.

"Sorry, I got held up," he said with a rush. His work phone was in his hand. He shouldered a backpack, one he had used previously to haul his gym clothes.

"Why aren't you dressed?" Melina asked. She didn't hide the clear surprise from her face. She wiped Brielle's face with a napkin, still looking at him.

Gryder grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. "I am, we're going to the department's gym to workout first," he said, holding up his phone to indicate the person he'd just spoken to. He motioned to his backpack slung in one shoulder. "I've got everything else for later."

"Oh."

That was new. Melina simply watched him kiss their daughter on the head as the little girl stuffed a banana piece in her mouth. "What time will you be home then?"

Gryder came up to her and briefly planted his lips to hers. "Same time as normal. If I'm gonna be late, I'll let you know."

"Do you want something to go?"

Gryder shook his head at the mention of breakfast. "I don't have enough time."

"I'm done!" Owen called out.

Gryder turned to make his way to the front door, stopping short with a "whoa" when he almost ran into Owen's hands still sticky with visible jelly from his toast. He laid a hand on Owen's head to direct him to the kitchen sink.

"Be careful, I love you," Melina loudly shouted when he opened the front door.

"Love you too." And then he disappeared with the door clicking shut behind him.

He rushed down the porch steps as he unlocked the device in his hand. Scrolling to the recent contacts, he chose the one he wanted and sent a simple text, _On my way_.

Part of him felt guilty for not telling Melina the whole of his job. He couldn't disclose it to anyone but his handlers. It was too much of a risk to not only him, but to his family.

When they approached him with the job offer, he had laughed in their faces. It wasn't what he had signed up for. Not in the least. How was that not an appropriate response? It was a position that wasn't coveted for many reasons. Even if offered, no one wanted it because of the danger. Everyone who made it past graduation entered into a career with no surprises. As safe as could be expected considering the field choice.

Everyone that is, except him.

Maybe it was because of his scores in certain areas, having scored the highest out of all the rest of his class in the particular categories the supervisors flagged for. Maybe it was his life history. If it was, he could consider neither it a blessing nor a curse. It was his lot. Call it fate.

Nevertheless, it killed him that he had to lie. Every day. To his wife. He had had to spin intricate fabrications to his entire family and friends from his very first day on the clock. It was quite literally his job description.

Not that he complained much. It brought food to the table. It could all be much worse.

As soon as he pulled over to park along the street curb, he tugged his backpack along, palming his keys. The walk to the rental wasn't far. To the untrained observer, he was just another visitor to the old man who lived there. A grandson or nephew.

He knocked on the door. A muffled voice answered. "Who is it?"

"It's me, dumbass. Open up," Gryder hissed. Behind him was the street and on the other side were houses that lined it. He fought the urge to look over his shoulder. It always felt like someone was watching. Like he'd get caught.

The door cracked open and Gryder immediately pushed it further inside to slip through. He turned the corner into the living room. It all looked the same. Just as he had left it the day before.

Three different kitchen tables were clustered together in the center of the carpeted room. Upon each of them were many electronics. Laptops, listening devices, and cameras were all attached to their charging cords, which were massed together and plugged in at an industrial strength power strip in the middle of the triangle.

"What took you so long?" a man in a white button up asked, sitting back down. He didn't look up as he rolled his chair to the next table, intent for the computer upon it.

Gryder frowned. "You know I have a life, Don."

"A life. That's cute." Don's voice dripped with sarcasm as his fingers typed. He hit the enter button on the keyboard and sat back in the chair. His voice went back to a hard edge. "We own your ass now. You don't get to have a life."

"Go easy on the kid," Tom spoke up. "Just for that, he's getting your cup." He casually sipped from a coffee mug and handed Gryder the other one in his hand.

Don ignored him. Instead of acknowledging, he looked at Gryder as he took a tentative sip of the hot coffee. "It's 8am. You got fifteen til drop."

"Do you think he'll show?"

"He better. Depends on how well you've done your job." Don frowned.

Trying to quickly drink his first beverage of the day, Gryder took the chair next to him and leaned in to see the screen. It was split into two different windows, each one the active roll of two security cameras on the house several doors down. One viewed the front and the other the side and backyard. "Of course I did my job. Who else could get a drug dealer to befriend an undercover cop?"

Don couldn't help but crack a grin. "As long as he doesn't think you're some kind of nark."

"I did everything short of using the stuff myself. He agreed almost instantly the moment I suggested I had a friend who was interested."

Tom nodded. "Good deal. All we need is him with the content spread out, so make sure he's showing off the product. The rest will be up to the DEA. Don't forget to put on a good show."

"Yea, yea, this ain't my first rodeo," Gryder joked. He caught the gaze of the old man with a small smile.

Nearly retired from the force, Tom was the grandfather he never had. Unlike Don, the veteran police officer had faith in Gryder's ability to blend the law and the crime world together seamlessly. It had taken a few rounds in the undercover ring to convince him, but after the kid got the hang of it, he knew Gryder would be a force with which to be reckoned.

Gryder stood up to walk off the bit of nerves that always plagued him before a show. As he walked and stretched, Tom nodded to him. "Remember, there will be no lights or sirens. I'll alert you when they're seconds away, so act surprised."

"They will know which ones are the cops, right?"

Don seemed insulted. "You're not bald with tribal tattoos on both sides, are ya? Of course, they'll know. This time."

"This time?" Gryder's voice rose. His hand flew into the air and he turned to him, altering his voice when he spoke. "What tha fuck is that suppose ta mean?"

The undercover handler at the computer let the smile crack on his lips. "There's the Byron Selles we all know on this case. Time to retire the name. Bring him down."

Gryder nodded.

He was ready. As ready as he'd ever be. There was always an anxious flutter in his stomach every time he entered the stage, but as the act went on and he played the part, his nerves gave way to solid steel. Failing to morph into his cover identity was something he rarely did. The walkies came to life as he opened the back door to leave. The swat team signaled their positions a few blocks over and were awaiting orders.

He touched the nearly invisible earpiece tucked into his ear, making sure it was in all the way. The hair curling around his ears helped to hide it further. He backtracked down a few houses, easily maintaining a casual walk up the sidewalk towards the target house.

The voices of his handlers in his earpiece were a comfort as he assumed his character and approached the target's front door. He made a point to sniff and fidget with his sleeves before he knocked three times. Standing there, he looked over his shoulder once, sniffing again. His hands stuffed themselves in the hoodie pocket.

There was no weapon on him now that the act was once again live. To show the man he'd been investing into for months that he was indeed the same Bryon who shot up heroin every day, who was a harmless addict looking to make extra cash, he had to keep continuity. The moment something changed on his person -no matter how minute of a detail it seemed- it could potentially fuck up the entire investigation. A gun now when there was not before would be a red flag.

And they'd have a difficult time trying the same tactic twice on the same subject; they were criminals, they weren't born yesterday.

The door opened, revealing a bald man in a white tank. He was tall and built. One glance at Gryder and he stepped aside, turning his back to let the familiar guest follow.

" _Alright, we're inside, standby._ " Don spoke to everyone through the same channel, giving only important play by play information when necessary.

The two of them entered the main living room. The glass coffee table was moved closer to the couch and a large black case was open on top. Inside was a junkie's dream, full of choice selection gathered from the streets and connections with cartels from various locations across the area, complete with the means to use said merchandise.

It was also the DEA's single reason for targeting the very person Gryder now stood mere inches from. Andre had been ratted out by a fellow street dealer and distributor -who was now Gryder's CI- not long before in exchange for a lesser prison sentence later. All they had to do was come up with a buyer and catch them in the act. The evidence would be right there alongside in plain sight. It would all be enough to indict.

Gryder followed closely behind, shoulders hunched and fingers slightly fidgety. "This all of it?" he asked. His green eyes skirted the case.

Andre narrowed his eyes. "Yea, it's not good?"

The undercover cop made a face. "It could be better, but my dude ain't picky. It's good enough."

The bald man smirked and roughly sank into the couch cushion. "Have you talked to him? When's he comin'?"

Gryder pulled out a rolled blunt from his pants pocket and casually lit it with a lighter inside the supply case. He offered a while roll to his partner, who took it with a grunt of thanks.

"On my way here," Gryder said as he inhaled. He held the breath for the briefest of moments before letting it and his words out in a rush. He tried to be as calm as he could. "Said he's comin' now."

He coughed when the white smoke tumbled out of nose. He looked at the small roll between his fingers, holding it like a pencil. "This shit is dank, dude."

The smoke billowed from Andre's parted lips before he began to cough. He tried to speak through it, but ended up nodding with a huge grin.

It wasn't hard for the undercover officer to draw on the atmosphere. Memories of snorting the same stuff packed away in the case six years prior, back when he worked for Lascola, it was easy to fake the high. Both good and bad recalls came to mind, but Gryder expertly shoved it all back to focus on the now. What he smoked presently was nothing in comparison.

He'd rather not be tempted.

"You gonna shoot?"

Andre's eyes hooded a bit and he rolled his head towards him. "Wanna now?"

Gryder chuckled. He paced from the curtains that covered the windows to the recliner next to them. He sat down, haphazardly putting his foot on the coffee table's edge. "Ya know me. I think we should wait for Nate. It ain't polite to get high on the merch, what if he's insulted we couldn't wait, eh?"

"You have the self-control?"

"My self-control is about tapped," Gryder confessed. He made a point to tear his eyes away from the case with difficulty, pretending it was making him itchy for a loaded needle. He scratched at his left arm near the inner elbow.

" _Buyer is at the walkway_ ," Don's voice calmly stated in his earpiece.

The cop looked at the floor to listen for the knocks.

At the few tentative knocks on the front door, Gryder sat up. "May I?" he asked, gesturing to the door.

The drug dealer flicked his wrist.

Once he checked the porthole at his eye level, Gryder opened the door and met another undercover agent working with the DEA disguised as an experience heroin buyer. The two of them smiled and worked their hands into a quick handshake gesture, keeping it casual. They were supposed to know one another.

Nate slowly entered the living room, eyes roving all over to get his bearings. "'Sup," he stated easily, giving a nod to Andre.

"My man Selles says you're good for it." The bald man never made a move to stand up. Maybe the kush blunt was working in Gryder's favor in keeping him sedated.

Nate sniffed. "Yea. If the price is right."

"I dunno, you tell me if it's right'er not."

The dealer leaned up and turned the case around on the glass top, exposing the goods inside to a new set of eyes. The man stared hard at the contents. His hand came up to his wrist, a tell where he preferred to shoot up.

Gryder returned to his previous seat, saying, "We waited. I dunno 'bout you, but I need my fix."

Without another prompt, Andre dived right into his supply and started preparing a syringe. The man was playing right into the agents' trap. While he worked, Gryder and Nate shared a meaningful gaze, knowing both heard the same thing in their earpieces: the team was moving into position.

Andre held it up in the air, pointing the needle up. He stared at it like a wolf staring down a deer. His hooded eyes dropped to the other two men, offering the first dose.

Gryder sat back and put his feet up again, looking at Nate. His eyes held a serious tint. "You first since yer shellin' out the bucks."

Nate gave an easy smile and took the syringe. "Alright, don't mind if I do."

" _Go, go, go._ " The voice in the earpieces went from quiet and focused to clipped and excited the moment the full line exited the field agent's mouth.

Gryder tried not to tense when his partner in the charade said the magic words. They knew in a matter of seconds through the door would come a whole lot of heat.

Like clockwork, the door swung wide with a bang, and in came a swarm of black-vested officers wielding .9mm Glocks, yelling out their agency's name and to get on the ground.

The onslaught took the dealer by total surprise. He looked up with utter shock on his face when they burst in. He gave quick glances in both Gryder and Nate's directions. Officers had their guns pointed at all three of them, their shouts now hurting their ears.

"DEA! Hands on your head! Hands on your head!" one agent yelled, aiming his Glock close to Gryder's face. "Do it now!"

He compiled, but not before mouthing off. "Motherfucker!" The young disguised cop picked his head up off the carpet and shot a glare at Nate as another officer pulled his hands behind his back to cuff him. "The fuck! You do this?!"

Nate returned the gaze with fury as his own hands were cuffed with a few clicks of metal. "Like hell I did."

Andre was silent, keeping his eyes trained on who he thought was his friend, watching everyone's reactions. Gryder tried to shake off the hands now holding him down with a growling "fuck you", but it earned him another hand squishing the side of his head onto the dirty floor with more force than necessary.

"Shut up, asshole," the officer spat, crouched above him.

More officers flocked to them, one keeping his gun trained on the drug dealer the whole time. A few DEA gathered around the case, taking extra pics of the whole scene and carefully packing it up to be examined later.

Two officers hoisted the undercover agents to their feet, then another did the same with their target. Outside the house, marked units sat in the small, unmowed yard. They walked the men in custody to separate holding vehicles. Andre watched with defeat as the cops began to haul his stash of wrapped heroin bricks out in duffle bags.

It was over for him. He'd been unofficially caught.

There was not a damn thing he could do. With this the law would throw him into prison. The druggies who frequented him for their supply would be forced to find someone else who to encourage their habit or sober up with the realization that they too run the risk of eventually falling into the same trap.

With what seemed like hours of sitting in the locked patrol vehicles, they finally wrapped up the scene and units began to leave. The first one to leave had Andre in the back. Gryder, with a rough look of feigned anger, watched as the marked unit hauled back to the department. Once the vehicle was out of sight, Don appeared beside the SUV.

"Good work, Gryder," he commented happily. He opened the door to let him slip out.

"Get these off me."

The cuffs released their hold on his wrists. "These were way too tight," Gryder said. There was a partial red ring around the sides where it had pressed against him. He hoped it wouldn't develop into bruises; that would be another thing he would have to keep from Melina.

Tom came around then with a bottle of water. He offered it out to his grandson. "That was a successful raid. Great job."

"All in a day's work," Gryder replied and took the bottle. He let a grin show before he chugged some.

Don nodded, and briefly clamped his hand on his shoulder. "We're all getting burgers from the Lounge, let Frank know what you want."

With that, he left them by the street to help the others with the aftermath of the arrest. Tom kept silent, then gave Gryder a look. "You alright?" he asked.

"Yep," the young officer said in an exhaled breath.

Adrenaline was still in his system. It caused him to shake a little. He reached into the patrol car's drivers side to pick up the pack of cigarettes he had left there, depositing the remaining rolled blunts from his pocket onto the seat in exchange. The weed would probably be better for his nerves, and he probably would have lit another one if he weren't for his profession.

The old Gryder would, no doubt.

He took one out of the container and lit it. At Tom's silent question, Gryder let out the drag he'd taken. "Helps calm me down after. Don't tell Melina." Smoke rolled from his words.

Tom shrugged. "Not my secret to tell. But you know my stance on it."

"Right. There's a lot riding on me. A lot of secrets."

"Didn't say I didn't understand," Tom said. He motioned for Gryder to walk with him. "We all deal differently. Just don't cross the line. You know."

They made their way down the street towards the rental they used as a base to help pack up all the equipment. Tom waited patiently beside him as he finished the cigarette. He stood there by the open front door, watching officers carry boxes of wires and devices. He didn't say anything. Each time Gryder assumed a new character for a case, a tiny part of him disappeared.

The twenty-five-year-old didn't know it yet, but he'd eventually figure it out when the stress wore him down. He was living a double life, and the line that separated actual truth from his work would be a constant blur. It was just the beginning of his undercover career. Tom knew what awaited. It was going to be rough for him. And on his and Melina's marriage. The good news was he could always switch departments, actually acquiring a desk to push papers like he had been told to tell everyone.

But that wasn't nearly as fulfilling as fieldwork in general.

When he had finished, Gryder followed Tom inside and they joined in the process of packing up. When their lunch arrived later, they took a well-deserved break on the front porch. The house was more or less cleared away and cleaned. Now it was transporting all of their surveillance essentials back to the station and paying the owner of the rental for allowing them to use the property.

"When the initial paperwork is done, go home," Tom said in between bites of his sandwich. "Get your statement about today's raid down while it's fresh, then take the rest of the day. Spend time with your family."

Gryder's eyebrow twitched as he chewed, then said, "Are you sure? I'd feel like I wasn't doing my job."

"You already did, kid." Tom chuckled. The old man picked a thick onion slice from his burger and put it in the bag beside him. "The paperwork is just the legal stuff, anyone with a badge could turn it all in after the official statement is taken. Let me worry about it, as your handler. Take care of yourself."

Gryder took a deep breath through his nose as he finished his sandwich.

It was a relief. Stress had been heavily laden upon him. He was blessed to have someone in his corner who understood. His handlers were the only ones he could confide in officially. According to official public records, he was not affiliated with any law enforcement agency. It was vital in case a criminal with connections were to run a search; it kept his identity and his family, in turn, safe.

"Thank you" was all he could say. The simple statement as he looked him in the eye was enough to convey his gratitude.

Tom nodded. "Say hello to my granddaughter and grandkids for me too."

"Will do."

* * *

Melina let out a long breath.

Slowly standing up from the couch with a hand on a sleeping Owen's head, she laid his head down softly on the cushion. The only noise was the cartoons on the television, which had lulled him into a nap just after their lunch.

After covering him with a blanket, she checked on Briella. The child was on the blanket she had laid out for her. Both were sound asleep.

Their mother allowed herself a victory sigh.

Now she could get some housework done before Gryder came home. It was almost summer. The heat always aided her in getting her children to nap. A few hours in the pool and lunch and they were ready without complaints.

It wasn't long before she had wiped down most of the kitchen except for mopping. She hated mopping the floors. She couldn't venture into the living room to pick up toys and vacuum until both children were awake. Instead, she crept around the house dusting where she could reach, hoping her cleaning noises wouldn't wake anyone.

As she dusted the living room blinds, she found herself daydreaming. Although what had happened in her third pregnancy, she knew she wanted another baby. No doubt Gryder did as well. Sweet images the children and husband playing in the living room ran through her mind. Genetics had been kind to them; Owen and Briella were born healthy and still were. There was a balanced mix of Melina and Gryder in them both. Who would their third child have resembled the most?

There was still time. The young parents were fertile. They could still have more.

The sound of a car door shutting broke through to grab her attention. Gryder's blue truck was now beside her vehicle in the drive. Her eyes darted to the man now striding up to the house.

She set the duster down and hurried to the door to meet him, as well as to keep him quiet for their children's sake. And hers, if she was honest. He was now dressed in the tan slacks and blue button up that he usually went to work in, the black backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Hey," she quietly addressed him. She kept her voice low once she had the door open. She put a finger to her lips and mouthed, 'they are sleeping' before murmuring, "Is everything ok?"

He nodded and gave her a quick kiss on the mouth. "Yea, the supervisors let everyone leave a few hours early."

"Really?"

"Yea, there's been a lot of paperwork recently. A lot of cases. They can't give too much overtime."

Melina crossed her arms and watched him shut the door with careful consideration, glancing towards the sleeping babes as he did so. "So. Does that mean you're office-free until Monday?" she softly asked. Her lips slid towards a smile with expectation, her gaze falling to the rest of his face before returning to his green eyes.

He smiled in return. His was voice a little thick. "That's exactly what it means."

He set his backpack on a chair. A large step in her direction brought him close. His arms slid around her waist, his hands feeling her familiar body. They settled on the space above her ass, his fingers giving a gentle squeeze. "Your day seems calm so far."

Shaking her head, Melina let her forehead tilt until it touched his chest. "Oh if you only knew. Owen is such a hyper kid. He gets Bri riled up too and then they're both screaming. It's all I can do to get them like this." She gestured towards the makeshift bed the couch was at the moment. She looked up at him. "How was your day?" She inquired.

It was such a simple question. So innocent. Yet the most difficult to avoid without deception. A groan threatened to shake loose from deep within Gryder's tired chest.

An exhale hissed from between his lips. He pulled away from her and started for the kitchen. "It went," he monotoned.

"It was a bad day, huh." The corners of his wife's eyes crinkled with a grimace. When he stopped at the counter, she walked passed him to stand in front of the sink. The side yard stared back at her through the short window curtains.

"Not bad. It was long. Full of nothing but files. Just so much shit," he replied. He leaned his elbows on the sparkling surface to look at her, sighing again as he did. His wife knew nothing, thinking that he sat at a desk all day, without worry of danger. It made him feel guilty.

She turned her body from the window. "Like what?"

He tilted his head. "Resisting arrest, for example. They dig themselves a deeper hole. More charges mean more paperwork," he said.

"I can't believe people are so stupid."

"Well, you and I both know how that goes." He chuckled, remembering a certain time in both of their lives before they really knew each other. Back when his old mentor was still alive.

She glared at him, but her lips were betraying her with the beginnings of a grin which she fought to hide. "Don't bring it up."

"I wasn't gonna."

"Mhm."

Melina saw the play in his expression. There was something heavy in his eyes as he gazed at her. He motioned for her with a nod of his head. Before either of them could say anything further, the patter of feet increased in volume. They knew that someone had awakened.

"Daddy," Owen mumbled. He looked up, his hair matted on one side from lying on it. His face lit up with a mellow smile.

Gryder turned around at the sound of his voice. He bent down and picked him up with an exaggerated groan. He used an upbeat tone. "Hey, buddy. How was the nap?"

"You're home," Owen said instead. It was a good surprise. One that Gryder really never got a chance to provide for his children.

"That's right. I wanted to come home early so we can have some fun." He glanced at Melina.

Little eyes widened with excitement. "Really! Can we go outside-"

Melina rushed forward in an effort to keep him quiet so Brielle could sleep longer. Her words were rushed, almost hissed. "Owen, use your whisper voice."

Gryder pursed his lips with his son's loud, excited shout in his ears. "Yea, we can go outside," he said in a quiet voice to calm Owen down. "Maybe we can convince your mom to help us give the yard a drink of water."

Narrowing her eyes, she put a hand on her hip. She scowled, but it slowly turned to another knowing grin. He was up to something. And knowing him, she'd probably have to clean up in their wake. "You mean a reason to get out the garden sprinkler?"

"Maybe. It's pretty hot out there today." He set Owen's feet on the hardwood and told him, "Go change into your swim trunks and I'll set up the sprinkler."

Melina leaned her backside against the wall and closed her eyes while Owen shouted with more excitement. The rest of the day he would spend with his father. He inadvertently woke up his sister in his rush up the stairs. "Great, there goes a quiet afternoon," she huffed. The attitude was short-lived, however.

Gryder tsked at her for her statement, tilting her chin up with a finger to force her to look him in the eye. "You girls suit up and meet us outside in ten." He kissed her cheek when her lips broke into an open mouth smile.

"I love you," she drawled. Whenever she presented with a bad attitude, he would somehow manage to turn it around before it got out of hand. This far into their marriage and he was fluent in Melina language.

"Yea, I know."


	5. Haunting Past (II)

**AN** : This is a sequel to _Fighting Redfox_ , which you must read first in order to understand the events of this story. Both stories are interconnected.

I had been struggling to write for sometime since my brother's death involving heroin. As I wrote in _Fighting Redfox_ , this sequel contains drug usage; not all who are drowning within the drug's hold are bad people. Not at all. Sadly they just made one bad choice. The rest were made against their wishes, against their better judgement, which could have/may have led to their untimely end. It's not up to us to determine their fate, but we must help them do what is right through encouragement. This story has strong redemption themes as well: _there is_ still _hope for the ones still caught in narcotic traps._

Note that I am unwilling to discuss opinions over drug usage/addiction in general in the reviews/comments, as that is reserved for the story itself. If you wish to speak with me regarding the topic, feel free to PM me.

 _Fighting Redfox and Finding Gryder are dedicated to my brother, Brian._

 **Storyline** : [AU] Recruited by Sting, Mest Gryder begins his descent down a dark path that carries him to the better half of his life. With a family of his own now, he knows about sacrifice. After witnessing a crime, he and Gajeel again enter the struggle against the destructive life they had rejected. It's the fight of a lifetime for both father and son in this Fighting Redfox sequel. [Two plot converg/lemons] _*Major character death warning_

Two separate plots - the past and the present - collide as events unfold.

*Rated Mature - There is intense language, violence, drug usage, and some sexual situations. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

*I do not own any of the media.

*I do not own any of Fairy Tail - that's all Hiro Mashima.

 **AN** : This is a long one. I plan on adding a tiny bit to this. But I'm tired of working on it and i want to finally give an update. Just hold onto ya butts.

* * *

Chapter Four - Haunting Past (II)

 _Taking a rather deep breath and stepping out, Gryder forcibly shut the front door behind him. The intensity of his mother's irritated shouts immediately hushed, but he could still hear her voice even outside. He leaned on the wooden railing ahead of him, his fingers squeezing tight in his frustration._

 _He wanted so badly to rip the wooden railing off the tiny porch and beat the side of the trailer with it. He wanted to do many things. One of which was escaping the hell hole of a home. But she was his mother. He didn't have to like her at the moment, but as he refrained from his desire to destroy the trailer and the woman inside, he knew the love he had had for her would resurface. And then when she calme.d down, all would be normal._

 _Though, normal was subjective._

 _Rolling his eyes, Gryder pushed himself away from the rail. As he aimlessly wandered out into the darkness of the night, he reached into his pocket to produce a rolled blunt he'd saved from earlier. Sticking it in between his pursed lips to light it, the lighter he thought had had wasn't with him._

" _Great," he darkly growled, the joint bobbing up and down as his lips moved. There was no way he was going back into that trailer._

 _He hid the blunt in his fist and made his way towards the empty street, maneuvering around the other rows of trailers in the dark until he came to the blacktop. The corner gas station was just up the block. He could see the lights within the store still on._

 _A few vehicles were still in the small lot as Gryder approached the gas pumps, one parked on the farthest end. He mentally counted the money he possessed. The twin lights of a car appeared behind him as he approached the entrance, followed by the rumble of a hardy engine._

 _Gryder never looked back. He swiftly grabbed what he wanted and paid. When he strode out, the charger that he had been seeing hanging about around town was front and center._

 _Admiring the shape and the idle purring of the engine, Gryder lit his blunt. His eyes never left the silver vehicle until the engine cut off and the driver's door opened wide._

 _A man stood up, his form half hidden by the shadows. He blended into the dark seamlessly with the aid of a black jacket. The only part of him to stand out was his yellow hair. Unseen eyes watched the young man blow out a breath. "What you're smoking is illegal," he said._

 _Gryder never skipped a beat. Solidly planted on the walkway, he narrowed his eyes as he stared the newcomer down. "Why do you care?" he asked._

 _The man shrugged once and said simply, "It'd just be a shame to get booked for something so small. Not worth the jail time, is all."_

" _Yea. Is that right." Gryder kept his voice low, threatening. Who was this stranger? Who cared what he did or didn't do? He wasn't hurting anyone. "And what would be worth it then?" He sarcastically asked._

" _The hard shit your mother's into."_

" _And how do_ you _know my mother," Gryder instantly growled. How did this man know what his mother prefered to use recreationally? Was he her dealer? That would explain a lot. Though it wouldn't explain why he had just shown up to talk with him. He crushed the lit end of the joint against his hand to snuff it out. "You one of her many fuck buddies?"_

 _The stranger put his hands into his jacket pockets, casually standing there watching him. A small frown appeared to replace the line his mouth had formed._

" _Who the fuck are you?"_

 _Instead of answering the direct question, the man nodded towards what the kid had just snuffed. "There's not much money to be found in that. I can show you where there is."_

 _A light laugh began to slip through Gryder's teeth. The whole exchange was getting too ridiculous. All he had to do was step off the sidewalk and leave. There was nothing keeping him from being on his way._

 _He was about to turn, but something -call it curiosity- kept him interested in what the man had to say. What he had to offer. He lifted his arm. "Is this some kind of joke? Are you a cop trying to fuck with me?"_

" _I'm neither. I'm just trying to recruit."_

 _Young Gryder paused. It was not an answer he was prepared to hear. "Recruit for what?" he questioned._

 _A smile slipped onto the man's face. "Get in the car and I'll show you."_

 _Gryder squinted, his brows pulling downward with his scowl. "I ain't gettin' in your damn car! I don't even know your name."_

" _My name is Sting. Not that it matters."_

 _A snort came from the kid. He scoffed, "You're right, it doesn't."_

 _Sting fought the urge to roll his eyes. The adolescent was on the brink of adulthood and even now was more than a challenge. He knew things, whether it was knowledge or instinctual reactions. He was akin to a loaded weapon. It made him unpredictable._

 _Dangerous._

 _He was exactly what they needed._

 _Sting lowered his voice after a deep breath to steady his gnawing irritation. "Get in the car," he breathed._

 _Gryder's head tilted slightly and his body angled in line with the vehicle to his right. He gave a husky, "No."_

 _Reaching into his jeans pocket, Sting fished out a cylinder of cash and tossed it to him with a quick motion. "Will this change your mind?"_

 _A thick, heavy wad of cash landed in his upturned hand. Green eyes widened a bit with surprise at what it was. He glanced up at this stranger called Sting. He couldn't be sure without counting it out, but there was at least three grand resting in his palm. All but glistening in the minimal lighting like a cluster of diamonds. He had never seen that much at once in his life._

" _There's money to be made. A lot of it. We need someone who's got dealing experience," Sting informed in a casual drawl. He pointed to the money roll. "Consider that your sign on bonus."_

" _Are you fuckin' with me?"_

 _Sting stared at his prey with impassive eyes. "No."_

 _Gryder's eyes dropped down to his hand engulfing the money. He tried to take in all of the information that had just been dumped on him. He couldn't believe it. "How do I know?"_

" _Take it on faith. I've been keeping tabs on you, I know about you and your friend. What you do on school grounds."_

 _A pit deep within Gryder's gut bottomed out. If the man was lying to him about not being with law enforcement, he could be taken in for dealing misdemeanors on state property. He was closer to being charged as an adult that he was for just juvenile detention and probation._

 _Sensing Gryder's inner turmoil, Sting asked, "Have you ever been caught?"_

" _No, but its school." Gryder shifted his weight. "No one wants to get busted so no one talks where they get their shit from. Are you sure you're not a cop? Or a nark?"_

" _Are you in the county jail or worse right now?"_

 _With that, Gryder's shoulders relaxed. He watched as Sting stretched where he stood. Patiently allowing the kid to think. They had time. There was no rush._

 _Wetting his lips, Gryder tried relax his face, but a frown replaced the scowl. Trust was something that had to be earned. "How long've you been spying?" he questioned._

 _There was a small shrug. "A couple of months."_

" _Is it just me?"_

" _There are a few others, yes," Sting hesitantly admitted. He nodded._

" _Lahar one of them?"_

 _Blue eyes narrowed. "Maybe."_

" _Right," the kid murmured._

 _It made sense. He and Lahar did a lot of lunch and after school selling, making sixty to eighty bucks every other week or so. Seeing the same Charger sitting in the parking space not four feet from him just confirmed that his friend had been in the man's sights. Same as him._

 _He looked down at his hand. His thumb ran up the paper dollar on the outside. It was a one hundred dollar bill. Whatever this Sting was involved in selling, it was well worth more than what he and Lahar could ever hope for with what they had access to. Weed was one thing. What could make a thousand dollars for the same amount?_

 _Was the gamble worth it?_

 _Jaw clenching, Gryder sniffed once and casually slipped his hands in his pockets. The money now rested safely inside._

 _Sting smiled. He motioned to the car. "Get in."_

* * *

 _Gajeel's head came up out of the toilet bowl. He spit and took an open-mouthed breath. A brief groan slipped through his parted lips. This was not the way he wanted to spend his day off. Closing his eyes, he willed himself to stop shaking._

 _Chills had started plaguing him in the early morning and he knew then that he was in for it. Kneeling over the bowl again, he shuddered as a violent bout of sickness erupted from him._

" _Fuck," he weakly uttered. He wiped his mouth with a towel._

 _There was a minimal amount of strength left in his body. There was no appetite. He could barely eat if he wanted to; he could keep down room temperature water. The only thing he seemed to be able to do was sit there and empty the contents of his stomach._

 _Multiple times over. There wasn't anything left for him to throw up._

 _He collapsed on the cold tiling, violently shaking and utterly exhausted. His muscles involuntarily seized and his stomach ached. Everything hurt. His senses were malfunctioning on an overworked circuit. Of all the times he'd gone through the torture of drug withdrawals, none had been this bad._

 _He wanted to die._

 _A buzzing sound caught his diverted attention. He had kicked his phone around the bathroom floor at the start of the morning when he began to feel sick. Where was it now?_

 _Slowly, Gajeel righted himself, careful to keep his head still. He searched the floor through watery eyes only to shut them again as another bout of nausea and round of chills hit him._

 _Levy would have to wait, as much as he wanted to see her. He couldn't even sit up without falling over. He didn't want her to see him like that. It wasn't her problem to deal with. His girlfriend came from a nice, lawful family. The less she knew right now…_

 _He swiftly turned his head to heave up bile into the cold, white bowl._

 _The desperate need for the narcotics that led him into this shitfest heightened. Both relieved that he had managed to flush what he had left and angry with himself that he had done it, Gajeel suffered through the withdrawal process alone and prayed no one had to find him in the case that he passed out from the pain, or worse._

 _After what seemed like mere minutes, Gajeel gradually came to many hours later. The sun was now in the opposite side of the sky and the sunset through the windows was a bright yellow-orange. His phone buzzed against the tile. How long had it been doing that?_

 _His gaze fell from the window to his disheveled clothing. The shirt he had worn was now half unbuttoned and wet from sweating through the material. Rising, he held his head in his hand, groaning from the ache still present. He felt like he'd been hit by a truck; his muscles screamed at him every time he moved, his throat was raw and burned._

 _He was a mess._

 _His attention was now on locating the buzzing sound. The black device was next to the trash can. The screen lit up with a call. He leaned to get it. His heart sank as he decided to let it go to voicemail._

 _Levy was calling him._

 _He had over twelve text messages, six missed calls, and a voicemail just from her. The rest were from the warehouse._

" _Great," he murmured. He inhaled. Quickly dialing the familiar contact number, he brought the phone to his face._

"Gajeel!? Are you ok?" _Levy answer in a relieved rush._

 _The obvious concern in his girlfriend's voice made his stomach hurt. He was an addict. A piece of shit one, at that. She deserved so much more than what he had to offer._

" _Yea-" He cleared his throat."Yea, I'm fine."_

"Are you sure?" _She asked._

 _He closed his eyes. "I'm sure baby, I just drank too much last night. I've been sleeping it off," he lied. Immediately after the words came out he clamped his lips together in a tight line._

 _It amazed him how easily the flowery deceit rolled from his tongue and right out into the open. Years of practice nearly made him flawless._

"You should have told me. I'd have come over and helped you."

 _He grunted. "Help me do what? I wasn't doing anything."_

"You know what I mean. You worried me," _she said. Although he couldn't see her at the moment he could hear the pout in her tone._

" _I'm sorry. I'll make it up to ya sometime," he said easily. He rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand._

"Sometime soon, I hope. I miss you."

" _Sometime soon," he agreed._

 _After the call ended, Gajeel pulled himself to his feet. He looked into the mirror and saw his ugly reflection. A scowl appeared to stare back at him with disappointed eyes. "You're an asshole," he said aloud, indicating to the man across from him._

 _Being selfish was something he was good at. It was easy. Natural. Self preservation. But when it came to considering another person other than himself, he severely lacked. Especially if he personally got nothing out of it in the end. And Levy wasn't just another piece of ass he could in good conscious toss aside after his seeds were sown._

 _He'd never felt pain so deep after having lied to who he hoped could be the mother of his children at some point in life. So he did have a little bit of a conscious after all._

" _Still an asshole," he murmured into the mirror before turning to leave._

 _After changing into fresh jeans and a new t shirt, Gajeel checked the rest of the messages while he grabbed leftover pizza out of the fridge for a hasty dinner. His eyes skimmed over the unread tabs on his phone as he ate._

 _What a surprise: Jose needed his assistance._

 _He shook his head. When did the old man not need him for something? He was used to being an errand runner and had grow to like it. Moreso now that he actively looked for excuses to be away from the warehouse. However, in his gut, he knew he would have a rough time of it._

 _The new kid Sting was always up his ass. Always raring to go on a drug run. The one time Gajeel had personally taken him, Sting had been scared shitless and nearly froze. It was also the last time Gajeel volunteered to go on one; having a skitzo point a gun at him is what did it._

 _It wasn't the fact that he'd been drawn on. That did little to phase him since that had happened in some way or another even before he joined Jose's cartel. Death had been and still was a friendly reminder of what could become of a dealer. He was sure he could manage._ Alone _. Levy changed that for him though._

 _And now the Sting kid would undoubtedly want to hang out and shoot the shit with the best of them. Gajeel unfortunately had zero desire to do so. His attempted thoughts were on recovery, and lingering around the shit he got high on was the worst idea since Croc footwear._

 _The text sent with his reply to the messages. Gajeel leaned down to pull on his boots._

 _Nevertheless, he would do as much as he could to help himself, and in turn Levy, while doing Jose's bidding. He could balance both sides of his life. He could make it work. Couldn't he?_

 _The faint beginnings of a panic sprang into the dark corners of his mind. A panic of fear and failure. Frowning, he squashed them back before they could multiply. There was no time for that shit. Worrying about things would just complicate it all._

 _Ignoring the headache creeping up on him once again, he palmed his keys and hoped to survive a new day. It was a fresh start. Another chance to do better. Because fuck failure._

 _Days sober: 0._

* * *

The way people glanced at them as they headed toward the exit made Melina uncomfortable. They still had items to pay for at the register. Between Owen's constant whining and not being able to get ahold of Gryder, Melina seriously doubted they could make it through another department store without some sort of incident.

She caught her mother's attention as she juggled her purse, holding Owen's hand, and pushing the full cart. Se blew out a breath and said, "Mom, I have to go pay for all this, please take him?"

Levy nodded. "After this we should head home. It's getting late," she said. She watched as her daughter transferred her son to her. When he started to act up again, she distracted him by looking at the arcade games near the front entrance.

Once in line, Melina took a deep breath, leaning over the handle. If it wasn't for her mother to help, she didn't know what she would do. Especially since her husband was MIA with his father-in-law. Probably in the hunting section, or in another store altogether. The two of them had their own interests and ways about shopping.

She tried Gryder on the phone again. As the ringing began, she suspected that it would go to voicemail as it had the previous three times she had attempted. Her eyes rolled with the thought. On the third ring he picked up.

"Hey baby."

"Where are you?" She asked, then added, "Why haven't you answered me?"

"Sorry, I got your messages. We're just now leaving Chucks," Gryder replied. He had to speak at a higher volume. There was loud, distorted music in the background that threatened to cut out his voice. Another deep voice was heard almost as clear.

"Chucks? You guys went to a sports bar?" There was only one Chucks she knew of. They had passed the sign for half priced beer before 5pm on their way to the store.

"We couldn't find you."

"So you leave for a drink and not take me with you? And it's called texting. You never answered me back." Melina struggled not to whine herself. She was aware that she was not the only person in line. Seeing that there was room to load some of her items, she placed a few on the moving belt.

There was a pause. In a lowered voice that conveyed meaning, he said, "I'll make it up to you later. With passion."

Melina's stomach flipped with his words. She smiled. Whenever he said he'd make something up to her, he always meant it and followed through. Before she could respond, the second voice she had heard said something about not talking about sex in front of him.

Gryder chuckled into the phone at his father-in-law's demand. "Are you waiting on the car then?" he asked her.

"Soon. I'm next in line. Mom has Owen. We gotta get him home. Let me know when you pull up. We'll be in the vestibule."

"Ten-four. Love you."

"Love you too."

As soon as he ended the call it was Melina's turn to cash out. If she raised herself on her toes, she could see Levy holding Owen up at one of the games by the main doors. He was calm and smiling, which was as good as it could get when he was grumpy and tired.

With Gryder and Gajeel currently on their way to pick them up, Melina felt herself relax.

* * *

"What's our ETA?" Gryder asked Gajeel as they headed out the bar entrance for the parking garage. He turned his head to see Gajeel hold the door open for a couple walking in.

"About fifteen," he said when he caught back up. "Twenty-five, thirty if we can't beat rush hour traffic."

"Melina will be pissed if she has to wait long with Owen. From how she sounded, he's giving her a hard time."

Gajeel's rich voice changed into a deep chuckle. It came out even and sly. "It's only fair after all the years I had to put up with her whiny shit. I knew she'd end up with a child just like her when y'all told me she was pregnant the first time," he said easily. His happy tone wasn't lost on Gryder.

"You know I live with them both."

Gajeel let out a brief laugh at his monotoned reply. He put a hand on Gryder's shoulder as they strolled down the sidewalk. "You'll live. I did."

The afternoon sky was now overcast, hiding the sun behind grey clouds. The downtown cityscape shadowed the streets even when the sunlight filtered through. Almost immediately at five o'clock, it seemed as though the nine-to-five workplace entered the streets. A swarm of taillights consumed the blacktop.

The parking garage loomed a city block away. Gajeel still hated to park in them, preferring to park along the sidewalks or open access lots. It was the enclosed feeling. Knowing there was only one way in and out of a multistory maze of parking spaces. It was one of the worst places to get caught in a chase.

They continued down the wide sidewalk until Gryder slowed his pace by a fraction. He glanced at Gajeel, who was watching the line of vehicles in the lanes to their left and checked the time on his phone. Glancing around, Gryder thought he heard a faint shout.

It was hard to place given that noise was all around them. He sped up to match Gajeel's stride. When he happened to turn to his right to his steps faltered and he abruptly halted.

There was a dark alley covered by the shadows of the neighboring buildings. By the dumpsters was a small group of men dressed in dark clothing. Four of them crowded around something against the side of one building.

Gryder stared at them. The only way he knew they were people was the contrast of their skin against the shadows. His gut screamed at him that there was a crime playing out in some way or another.

Their backs were to him, but he could see that the something they surrounded was a someone. The frightened man held up his hands, shaking his head. His lips are moving fast. There was a certain kind of fear on his face. In his eyes. But with much terror in them was just as much recognition and opposition. And it was then that one of the men pulled out a gun and pointed it at their victim.

Sensing he was walking alone, Gajeel stopped short. He turned around to see Gryder a few strides back. "Oiy," he called.

Gryder quickly snapped his stunned sights to his father-in-law.

His features were too confusing for Gajeel to make out. Was it surprise or fear? "What's wrong," he said immediately, his eyes narrowing. It didn't feel right.

There was a loud pop in the air as Gajeel marched back to him. He almost bumped into his son's shoulder after expecting Gryder to move. At the sudden, brief explosion, Gryder's gaze flickered from him to the scene in the alley.

Both of them watched in surprised horror as the man wielding the pistol turned towards the street to leave. He lifted his sly gaze and deeply frowned when he saw them staring.

"Oh shit," Gajeel breathed. His eyes widened.

Gryder couldn't speak. His muscles seemed paralyzed. No matter how hard he tried to move, his feet were firmly planted on the concrete. Through shocked eyes, he realized he firmly recognized the shooter.

He had closely worked with him. All but grew up with him. There was no mistake.

Smiling back at him was Lyon.

The evil smile spread further across Lyon's face when he understood just who it was to witness a terrible something he shouldn't have. He flicked the pistol in his unintended audience's direction. Two of his men then began to advance on them, pulling out guns of their own from under their shirt tails.

On instinct, Gryder's hand went to his hip. He expected to feel the government issued .9mm, but the space where it usually sat was empty, pistol, holster and all. Of all days he chose not to open carry. It was mentally noted, and he hoped it wasn't a fatal mistake.

They had to get the hell out and fast.

Immediately he grabbed a fistful of the material at Gajeel's shoulder and gave a forceful tug as he started to sprint up the walkway, urging his wife's father away from the alley. The older man easily kept with his clipped pace and dodged around the people leisurely wandering on the wide walkway in their shopping. The wind rushed past Gryder's ears, but all he could hear was his steady footfalls and his heart frantically beating in his burning chest.

The store fronts blazed by in a blur. Passersby made way for them as they called out ahead with shouts to move and raised their arms out in case they ran into someone not paying attention.

Gajeel glanced over his shoulder to see Lyon's henchmen still in pursuit a few yards back. "Fuck!" he spat.

Raindrops began to fall, stinging them on exposed flesh. A busy intersection was ahead and fast approaching. Gryder cut to the right and Gajeel followed close behind, almost running into a woman and her child. By the time they rounded the corner, the cloudy sky had opened the floodgates. The earthy scent of water upon the pavement rose up pungent in the air.

Both father and son gained momentum as they barreled along the now almost empty and wet sidewalk. With fewer bystanders to hide and protect them, they both knew they were sitting ducks.

All it took was one round. One bullet to end it all.

Their assailants rounded the same sidewalk corner they had just sprinted from, both with their guns out. All they had to do to was aim. It was an extremely risky decision to do so; Gryder and Gajeel weren't the only lives at stake should their round miss their intended targets. It was now one of the busiest times in a typical weekday.

"Come on!" Gryder beelined it for the parking garage entrance across the street. The large, sturdy concrete structure would provide cover from the rain at least, if not a sufficient hiding place from a couple of crazed gunmen.

With a rough glance in both directions of traffic, Gryder ran out into the four lane streets with Gajeel on his heels, hoping the clearing they had just run through would close up with more vehicles to seal up their route.

They darted along a full row of stationary vehicles, careful not to touch any of them in case alarms were set off. Once in the stairwell and ascending to the higher levels, only then did either of them speak.

"Lyon. It was Lyon," Gryder said in a breathless rush. He took two steps at a time. "He knows, we know it was him."

"Him for what?"

"He fuckin' shot that guy. Murdered him point blank." Gryder's voice hardened. "He knows me. Saw me watch. He knows you. Geesus, he knows Melina."

Gajeel's eyes flashed angry. Grabbing the railing, he propelled himself with his momentum and hopped over the last steps to the second floor landing.

Gryder skipped up the remaining flight of stairs ahead of him. Gajeel could see there was a certain fear now awakened in him. Something felt familiar in what that certain fear looked like in those green irises Melina loved so much. But it was temporarily stifled by the will to survive; no doubt memories of the past were resurfacing. The wheels were turning in both of their heads.

"You're a cop, call it in."

"I can't. We're the only witness as far as I know. If I do it now, the moment the units come he'll know it was me, and then we're fucked." Gryder shoved open the stairwell exit on the third level and sprinted up the middle row of the level. He didn't have to explain the last part.

The sound of Gajeel's labored breathing seemed loud in the quiet. They ducked behind vehicles, hoping the bulk of large metal would conceal them long enough to figure out what to do next. Gryder pulled his phone from his jacket pocket.

"What're you doing?" Gajeel murmured.

"I gotta let Melina know."

An arm shot out from his side to keep his daughter's husband still beside him and growled, "Like hell you will."

"They're expecting us to pick them up, now!" Gryder hissed. He pulled his hands free of the hold.

Gajeel was reluctant to involve his family in outside drama. Especially when his grandson was with them. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if anything happened to them. "They can wait a little longer. Until we know it's safe to leave without these assholes as a tail."

"It's Lyon," Gryder said with a roll of his eyes. "There is no such thing as safe."

Gajeel gave him a look.

"He's the son of a bitch who almost raped Melina." There was a ominous tint to his voice as he spoke. There was no forgive and forget where his past rival was concerned.

Gajeel took a breath. He clenched his fists. "I wish I had a gun on me," he murmured darkly.

"Yea you an' me both," Gryder grunted. He peered through the window of a red SUV, searching the front of the garage for the two strangely familiar assassins.

He saw the stairwell door swing open. Two men appeared to rush through.

"Fuck, fuck…" Gryder whispered. Ducking down behind the tire, he hastily typed out a text, sent it, then silenced his phone.

He watched the _delivered_ status change to _read_ on the message.

 _Stay there, we're delayed. Don't worry, we'll be there. Just be ready to go quick. I love you._

Whatever the reply would be, Gryder would have to wait. He stuffed the phone back into the pocket and looked at Gajeel. They had to focus on finding a way out.

"Keys?"

Gajeel gave Gryder his car keys as quietly as he could. While Gryder watched the front end of the car, he watched the back, waiting until they could find out where Lyon's men were on the parking level.

Then the younger man spied their hunters across the garage. One of them searched the vehicles they came to, the other glancing around with the firearm at the ready in case either of their prey charged them.

Together, the two men Melina loved most rounded the end of the SUV as their assailants briskly passed by. Gajeel pointed to the end of the row, where his car sat parked. He made the motions of pulling the top slide of a handgun and pointed to it again, indicating that he had one in the glovebox.

That revelation made Gryder feel a little better; they weren't completely defenseless. They snuck around until they eventually made it to their destination. Carefully unlocking and opening the driver's door, Gryder cimbed in without shutting it. He manually unlocked the passenger and Gajeel did the same.

He dipped into the glovebox to produce a .40mm and inserted the full magazine up into the handle and slowly racked it to stay as silent as he could.

Gryder stared at the wheel and ignition. He'd have to start it and get going in a matter of seconds. Lyon's lackeys would be suspecting something by now.

The key slid into the ignition switch.

A dinging started, as the doors were still open.

"Shit," Gryder spat and hurried to turn the engine.

Shouts were heard echoing through the level and within moments the two men had Gajeel's car locked in their sights.

Throwing it into reverse, Gryder ducked over the wheel. Tires squealed as the car moved from the space to the lane. As soon as Gryder slammed on the brakes to shift, a chorus of gunfire lit up the parking level.

Gajeel slid up further on the seat, his lower back resting against the middle console. He used the side mirror to watch the two gunmen as the back window acquired three bullet holes and a large crack through the middle that spidered up to one corner.

One round went through the middle of the front windshield.

"Go, go," he cried.

Before the car could accelerate forward, Gajeel turned in the seat, aimed the gun and squeezed off a shot. The explosion in the close quarters threatened their hearing. Gryder cringed and heard an intense ringing.

They launched down the lane. Tires squealed again as they half drifted around the corner and entered onto the second level. The gunshots ceased, but they still weren't out of the woods.

Once on the ground level, Gryder knew he couldn't stop to let the gate raise. If he did, it would give their attackers time to catch up to them. Pursing his lips, Gryder tried to slow a bit before he rammed it. They crashed into the gate at forty miles per hour.

The white and yellow gate arm flung out in broken pieces onto the street. They almost struck an unsuspecting passenger car almost seconds after the gate arm went flying, causing Gryder stomp on the brakes. His chin hit the wheel when the vehicle abruptly came to a stop, the front bumper skidding into the nearest street lane.

The back of Gajeel's head struck the window's glass beside him. He glanced back up into the garage and saw headlights advancing. "Punch it," he shouted and turned to Gryder.

Doing what he was told, the young cop gunned it, laying his foot on the accelerator. Tires spun for a brief instance and then Gajeel's family car darted out into the remaining lanes. Other drivers braked and swerved, allowing Gryder a narrow but clear path to escape.

"What if there's a red light?!" He cried, his head spinning in all different directions to keep them from getting into an accident with the other law abiding citizens.

Gajeel held up the gun in case Lyon's men followed in pursuit. He suspected they wouldn't give up that easily; the witnesses to a murder were speeding away as fast as traffic conditions would allow.

"Shut up and drive. Try not to kill us," he said casually.

As he suspected, they had a tail. He tried to direct his son in the way he should turn to shake it. Traffic was thinning in sections, but he was afraid of getting caught between lanes and pinned down.

Gajeel saw a familiar piece of roadway ahead of them. "Turn left there, quick." He pointed with the gun.

To do so, they had to cut off oncoming cars with the right of way. Gryder cringed and took the dive. Again he gunned it. The engine violently roared as it pulled the car into a small side street. Another vehicle didn't stop in time to avoid them. The right tail light was clipped. Red plastic littered the blacktop like broken glass.

"Turn right, third stop sign, turn left and then let it fly," Gajeel instructed calmly. "It's the back loading docks for the block, a clear alley. Follow it all the way to the 'T', then right and left again, it'll dump us put right behind the department store. Take the backroads home."

His mind brought up the map of the city, which he had to learn years prior when he delivered for Jose. The cityscape might have changed somewhat with time, but his mental bearings were still the same.

Gryder glanced at him, dumbfounded. "How do you know all of this?"

"We both worked for the same man who also hired Lyon." Gajeel's eyes never left the windshield, watching where they were, ready with the .40mm in case their tail had accomplices. "Plus I've done this before once or twice," he commented.

Once with Melina not as many years ago.

When they neared the department store block, Gajeel scouted their six, watching for incoming bogeys. He had hoped they lost them at the first left seeing as he hadn't located anyone behind them since disappearing out of the alley.

Gryder prepared himself for an angry and frightened onslaught of questions as he pulled into the parking lot. He hadn't had time to check his phone for the innumerable messages and missed calls from his wife. Not to mention what Gajeel would get for the back windshield barely hanging on by a thread.

When he halted, Gajeel left the gun on the front seat and hurriedly went to their full cart of bagged items.

Levy's hazel eyes shot open. Her hand went to her mouth as she took in the condition of her daily driver. Her hand left her face and she gasped, "W-what… Gajeel Redfox!"

"No time, just get in," he snapped. He opened the back hatch, careful with the window and threw in the plastic bags.

Melina's breath caught in her throat.

She gripped Owen's hand, bringing him close to her before peering into the car. Her husband impatiently tapped the wheel with his thumbs. He didn't even shift the vehicle into park. Without so much as a glance in their direction, he rattled off. "Get him strapped in, hurry."

She clamped her mouth shut and worked to get Owen in his seat. Words were building up in her mouth every second that ticked by. Those words were not going to be pleasant.

Levy hopped in the back passenger seat as Gajeel finished loading. He simply left the cart were it was to roll wherever the wind blew it. He returned to his front seat.

Once everyone was inside, Gryder checked the side mirror for any sign of opposition and took off.

"What the fuck did do you!?" Melina shouted. "How! How could you possibly manage to ruin the window!?"

Levy's eyes shot to her daughter before looking at the men expectantly. "Answer her!"

Gryder glanced to Gajeel. Hd was at a loss for words. What could they say that would even come close to remedying the situation? There was nothing.

"We ran into trouble," Gajeel started slowly. He half turned to see his wife seated behind Gryder. "From the past," he added.

"But the window, it's-" Levy said.

"What do you mean, 'the past'?" Meina interrupted.

She folded her leg under her and hovered over Owen's car seat. Her fingers gripped its edges. When no one answered her, she frowned and yelled out her frustrations, "Goddamit, my child is in the car, if we're in danger one of you better tell us what the hell is going on!"

"Mommmmeee," Owen began to cry and reach for her. He wasn't used to hearing urgent shouts and yelling from his parents.

"I- we witnessed a murder," Gryder immediately stated when Owen burst into tears. He guided the car toward the backroads, hitting the end a green light.

"A murder," Melina repeated. She touched Owen's face with her fingers to soothe him.

"Oh. Oh my," Levy breathed. Her hand came to her chest.

Gryder glanced up at them in the rearview. "Lyon and some men I didn't recognize."

He saw the instant apprehension in her eyes.

Melina swallowed. "Gryder…"

The memories of men coming into their house and shooting into the kitchen flashed to her. Memories of Lyon as he held her down on the bed when she their captive. It all came to her in a rush. Her husband had been there, and he saw it now in her face.

"I know, honey," he said. "I know."

Gajeel turned in his seat, still hiding the gun for Owen's sake."We can talk about this later. Right now we need to get home. Rhett doesn't have a clue what's going on."

A gasp came from his daughter. Her eyes held a desperate edge. Her hand shot out to the driver's seat. "Oh my God, Briella," she uttered, staring hard at Gryder.

"She's ok, she's with him at home," Gajeel said.

"No."

Gryder shook his head and took a deep breath. He didn't want to be right, and he hoped against hope that he wasn't.

"I thought for sure those guys back there would be on us like white on rice. It seems too easy that we lost them so quick. Lyon isn't stupid. He _knows_ me."

"Fuck, you're right…" Gajeel growled. It brought on a whole new level of nerves.

Melina knew where they were going with their conversation. Nausea hit her stomach then and her body threatened to empty itself. "Pull over," she demanded.

"What?"

"Pull over!"

Once the car was beside the grassy ditch, Melina sprung out and bent over. The rain had lessened to a sprinkle when the left the city. It accompanied her while she wretched.

Levy leaned forward to distract Owen from looking out the open car door, but when she instead focused on what caught her attention. "What is that?"

Gajeel looked to where she pointed. In the top of the backseat was a bullet hole a little smaller than penny. The bullet had missed Owen's car seat by inches.

"Is that a bullet hole?!" She asked incredulously.

Hearing that exclamation caused Melina to heave again. She started to cry realizing there had been gun fire where her child was usually strapped in. She should have known given the destroyed window.

Gryder exited the car and jogged to her. He pulled her hair from her face as she was sick one last time. Her breathing was quick and unsteady.

"Whoa, breathe. Take deep breaths," he said.

Tears were in her eyes. Just below them was wet and a streak of a fallen tear was on her cheek. "Gryder, what's h-happening…"

"Shh. Don't talk. Everything is going to be fine. I'll figure out what to do at the office," he said reassuringly. He smoothed his thumb over her cheek.

"Take us home," she pleaded. "Please. I need both of my babies."

"Done," he said deeply. He kissed her forehead and escorted her back to the car.

With her inside, Gryder returned to the driver's seat. He glanced to his father-in-law, who had a hand still on his handgun.

"Don't put that away yet," he murmured discreetly. He started driving down the road and gaining speed.

"Wasn't planning on it."


	6. Old Friends Die Hard

**AN** : This is a sequel to _Fighting Redfox_ , which you must read first in order to understand the events of this story. Both stories are interconnected.

I had been struggling to write for sometime since my brother's death involving heroin. As I wrote in _Fighting Redfox_ , this sequel contains drug usage; not all who are drowning within the drug's hold are bad people. Not at all. Sadly they just made one bad choice. The rest were made against their wishes, against their better judgement, which could have/may have led to their untimely end. It's not up to us to determine their fate, but we must help them do what is right through encouragement. This story has strong redemption themes as well: _there is_ still _hope for the ones still caught in narcotic traps._

Note that I am unwilling to discuss opinions over drug usage/addiction in general in the reviews/comments, as that is reserved for the story itself. If you wish to speak with me regarding the topic, feel free to PM me.

 _Fighting Redfox and Finding Gryder are dedicated to my brother, Brian._

* * *

 **Storyline** : [AU] Recruited by Sting, Mest Gryder begins his descent down a dark path that carries him to the better half of his life. With a family of his own now, he knows about sacrifice. After witnessing a crime, he and Gajeel again enter the struggle against the destructive life they had rejected. It's the fight of a lifetime for both father and son in this Fighting Redfox sequel. [Two plot converg/lemons] Two separate plots - the past and the present - collide as events unfold.

 _ ***Major character death warning**_ **  
*** _ **Major plot twists/surprises**_

*Rated Mature - There is intense language, violence, drug usage, and some sexual situations. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

*I do not own any of the media.

*I do not own any of Fairy Tail - that's all Hiro Mashima.

* * *

Chapter Five **\- Old Friends Die Hard**

"Alright. How do you want to do this?" Gryder murmured low to Gajeel. His eyes flickered from his father-in-law's face up into the rearview to see his wife's tear-stained and puffy face staring out the window beside her.

Gajeel was silent. He barely nodded his head. "Assuming they are there," he replied in kind. He let out an inaudible breath. "We'd have to be careful. Tactical."

His palm hugged the pistol's handle as he gripped it a little tighter.

They were hoping all was well and normal when they arrived, the same as how they had left it. No one in their right mind wanted to see children in danger, let alone their own. The worst, however, was the silent kind of danger. The lurking, slowly creeping in and surrounding kind. One never knew it was present until the last second.

They knew that all too well.

"Why are you sad?" Owen asked innocently. He caught his mother's expression.

Melina tried to smile and quickly wiped her cheek before turning to him. "I'm fine, sweetie. I'm not sad."

"Are you sick?"

"No, I'm not sick either." She quieted his worry with light words.

"But you threw up," he commented.

Her eyes flickered to the back of her husband's head, watered with fresh tears. Her mind could not calm down. It was elsewhere; at the house she grew up in, with her brother and youngest child, trying to make sense of the day. She prayed they were ok.

"I'm fine, honey. I love you so much," she said instead to distract him.

She took comfort in his response when he said it back in his own way. Children were refreshing with their innocence. When the surroundings began to look familiar, they all tried not to tense with anticipation. Her smile then faded.

The beat-up vehicle rolled up the drive, the house still hidden by the dense, dormant winter trees. Before they could round the corner, Melina was already trying to get a glimpse. The only other vehicles parked in the usual spots were Gajeel's truck and their own daily driver. Her eyes swept to the wide front porch.

The light by the door was on. Rhett had expected them to be home after dark, as most trips to the city took all day. There were lights on inside, the upstairs completely dark.

Gryder gave his father-in-law a glance before scanning the rest of the property. There were no signs of Lyon's men, as far as they knew.

"Wait," he said, his hand still on the shifter. His words were for his wife, who was already unbuckled with a hand on the door's handle.

She froze briefly, pausing only to see if he'd physically stop her. What could he do? There was nothing he could do to prevent her from going to their daughter.

Without a word, Melina launched herself out of the back passenger door.

"Melina! Wait for- goddammit…" Gryder half shouted, half growled.

"Gajeel, go with her!" Levy tried to keep her voice calm for Owen's sake. The stress on her face was beginning to show once again. But her husband was already heading for the property's edge, pistol in hand, to check for unwelcome guests.

Gryder left Levy and his son in the car with a rough shove to the driver's door and a frustrated breath. He jogged towards the house after Melina.

Melina quickly entered the house, noting the unlocked front door. An ember lit deep inside, slowly growing orange with the fact that if someone had wanted to, they could have straight up entered in. She didn't want to think what could have happened.

She stepped into the warm front room. "Rhett!"

Setting her purse on the floor beside one chair, she spied Briella sleeping peacefully on the couch. A blanket was draped over her. Instantly, her previous, incessant worry settled as she watched her breathe.

"Everything alright?" Gryder asked in a rushed tone. He strode into the living room, his gaze touching everything and looking for anything out of place.

"Yes," Melina replied. Her fingers barely touched Briella's shoulder. She peered into the hall and then up the stairs. "Where's Rhett?"

"You guys are home. That didn't take long."

Melina whipped around to see Rhett slowly enter from the hall. She stared him down as she spoke evenly, "Would it kill you to lock the door?"

"I thought it was," he answered.

Gryder gave a huff and quietly left to help the others.

"You need to lock the door." Melina kept her voice low and pointed to the entrance where her husband had just exited. Her gaze settled firmly on her brother.

Levy entered then with Owen in hand. She looked over her shoulder and then through the front rooms.

Rhett stared quizzically. They were all acting stranger than normal, as if they had been spooked by a ghost. "Ok. For real. What's happened?" he asked finally.

Melina simply said, "Go look at the car." She didn't want to think about or explain it. She'd let the men do that. After all they had been front and center.

She let out a breath and made sure Owen was settled before she wandered to the kitchen. Levy stood facing away from her. Most days she would admit that maybe she took her mother for granted, not fully realizing how much she helped raise her two kids. The love and assistance was greatly appreciated, even if she hardly ever thought about it.

"Mom?"

Levy stirred. She swallowed as she turned to her, trying to hide the look on her face that would give away what she was feeling. "I'm fine."

"I'm not five," Melina stated flatly. Her eyes leveled, her thoughts on her son now watching cartoons. "You know I just did this with Owen."

A light laugh came from the older woman. "I know that. I just have a lot on my mind right now." She began to put away the food portion of the bought goods that Gryder had hauled in.

Melina picked up the cereal boxes. The whole ride home she couldn't help thinking of what had happened to their family once before. "It's ok. The past- I mean, what are the chances of it happening again, really."

Levy kept silent. She knew how the other side of the law functioned. If what Gryder said about Lyon was correct...

"There's no chance… Right?" Melina fought to convince herself. And the panic that threatened from within when Levy said nothing. She crumpled the plastic bag before her in her hands.

"I don't know, honey. The chances seem unlikely, but today. It just doesn't seem right. It feels odd."

"Odd. Like how?"

"What happened six or so years ago I don't think will happen again, at least not in the ways it all occurred. But today's events, it's strange. Gryder just 'happening upon' them when he did."

Melina's eyes could have bore a hole into her. "Mest isn't a criminal. He works in the police station, he just couldn't be involved in-"

"Calm down, that's not what I'm saying," her mother began, her tone somewhat frustrated. She knew what she was thinking but couldn't get the words in order to speak them. She gave a harsh breath and started again.

"Do you remember how your father always said guns aren't the problem, it's the people with their fingers on the triggers? Laws don't guarantee that everyone is going to adhere to them. Criminals just hinder the citizens who are following the law. They choose to ignore the law. Why, I can't begin to understand. But things don't happen the same exact way twice. Just a little bit differently."

Melina frowned. Her palms had formed moisture from holding onto the grey bag. "Why would you scare me like this."

Levy sighed and put the balled up bags in the holder for future use. "I'm not meaning to," she said with a loose breath. "But the fact that it's Lyon and he's who he is. And Gryder is who he is now. It's a dangerous mix, coincidence or not." She lowered her voice, "A hardened criminal doesn't follow laws. There is no honor, except within their own. And even then, Gajeel and Gryder are rare exceptions. Men have killed for much less than what those two have managed to achieve."

Loud voices brought an end to their uncomfortable conversation before Melina was able to answer.

"That coulda been a disaster waiting to happen."

"No shit, I'll have to look into this."

"I can't believe that happened!"

Gajeel strode none too quietly into the house, followed by the other two. Rhett's face told her he knew about the shootout. Gryder appeared last and quietly closed the door behind him.

"When you all get home, send us a text. But you need to tell your supervisors," Gajeel finished. There was a serious glint in his eyes as he spoke.

"I will," Gryder replied with a rush. He let out a rough cough and glanced to the kitchen at his wife. "You ready to go?"

"Is everything alright out there?" Levy asked. She tried to keep the worry from her expression.

Gajeel hung up his coat. "As far as I can tell. There's no one out there," he replied. "No sign of anything out of the ordinary."

The conversation with her mother momentarily forgotten when Gryder addressed her, Melina went to wake Briella long enough to get her jacket on.

While her back was to him, Gryder let his expression fall. His stoic and calm flickered like a flame in the wind. He stood by and faced the front window. There had been no time to reflect on the day's events. Not yet. Just reaction and survival instincts. Now as he simply waited to go home, his mind wondered.

It had been entirely unfortunate to stumble across his old friend. He supposed 'friend' was too nice a term to waste on a man like him. Lyon was definitely not Lahar. And he hadn't had contact whatsoever with Lahar since before he met Melina.

He felt as though the encounter was a reflection of how well he protected his family. In the time he had known Melina, he had dedicated himself to her safety. To her happiness. Where he failed his mother, he saw the same thing threatening his family now. How could he protect Melina and their children if he was constantly looking over his own shoulder?

He thought his past was just that. He had been there in the courtroom to witness the three drug lords sentenced to life in prison. Melina had struggled that day with memories of her ordeal. _He_ had struggled; his mentor -the closest thing aside from Gajeel that he had had to a father- was dead and gone. But the knowledge that the men who could hurt them were locked away gave them peace of mind.

The image of his former coworker flashed across his mind's eye. He had never given a thought to Lyon or what would happen to the cartel once the trials were completed. It was all just assumed that the illegal contraband had been taken into federal custody when the rest of the cartel's crew fled or later found themselves behind bars. There had been no doubts that it was all done and over.

Was it naive to have believed it? Were they still to live as though it were over?

Were they still safe?

Gryder glanced to Melina. She carried their daughter in one arm and held their son's hand in the other.

His heart fluttered inside his chest. His whole world was standing before him. The overwhelming love warmed him enough to release the thoughts of the past to focus on the present.

"Alright, let's get."

* * *

 _Eyeing the different firearms laying on top of the tall, upright toolboxes, Gryder could feel his stomach slowly turning. The same kinds of weapons were holstered in some way or another on the men already employed by Sting's boss. They roamed the property fully armed._

 _Gryder felt a nudge on his arm. He glanced to his friend with the silent communication. A smirk was on his face, but his insides roiled._

 _The warehouse was large and ominous. The atmosphere serious. Heavy. It felt as though he'd be cut down for cracking a joke or laughing at one. Did he really belong here? Could he ever really fit in?_

" _Do you think we'll carry those soon?" Lahar murmured out of the side of his mouth. His eyes pointed to the toolboxes._

" _Why would we?" Gryder replied in kind._

 _They were to be dealers. What all did that entail? They would most likely learn how to sell it or at the very least learn how to distribute it._

 _Lahar faced him. "You're joking, right?"_

 _Gryder frowned. He opened his mouth. His voice was cut off by another, one he recognized._

 _Sting casually strode through the vast, empty room, his footsteps echoed off of the concrete. One of the tall garage doors behind him started to rise as the motor churned several feet above their heads. In came a tan work van. There were no back windows on it, no other distinguishing marks. It drove further into the warehouse where a group of guys were waiting to unload the cargo. Whatever it contained._

" _If you think that's for you, you're wrong," Sting said, looking at the small huddle of recruits. He threw a thumb over his shoulder. "You infants aren't ready for that. Not yet. There's a few things you need to master first. Boss's orders."_

 _He halted by the toolboxes a few feet away. His gaze swept over the young adults he'd managed to snag on his mission away from base. A smile appeared as he stared at them._

" _If you're gun shy, you're gonna get over that shit real quick."_

 _He stepped over to the small, cleared-away table near the toolboxes and promptly took the .9mm from the hidden holster on his person, quickly dismantling the entire thing, stripping it down to the individual parts._

" _Jose doesn't care to be caught unawares in any situation. Everyone on payroll carries. No exceptions. You will learn to defend yourselves as well as engage any opposition or other direct threat. The gunmetal you wield might be the only thing that saves you."_

 _Gryder swallowed. His eyes bore into Sting. Anger was building against his calm exterior. What the hell did that man drag him into? He wanted to make fast and easy money, and Sting was making it seem like they would all be living on the edge of life and death. Isn't that what he did before? Only less intense? He had never dived head first into serious trouble._

 _Sting indicated to the pistol's parts lying on the table surface as he continued to speak. "One will be loaned to you until you can come by your own. You'll learn how to field strip and clean it in the meantime."_

 _A voice spoke up. "What if I already know how to do that?"_

 _Sting's eyes slightly narrowed. He as well as everyone else looked to see who had said it._

 _With his arms crossed over his chest, another young looking kid frowned. His blue eyes were trained on Sting. It seemed almost as if he was challenging._

" _Who is he?" Lahar whispered._

 _Gryder shook his head._

" _Put it back together," Sting roughly demanded. He pointed to the dismantled pieces. There was an authority in the man's voice, tinged with a hint of anger._

 _As the young man approached the table, Sting stepped aside. "What's your name?"_

" _Lyon."_

" _Well, Lyon, we'll see if you just made yourself look the fool."_

 _Sting crossed his arms over his chest and stood to watch the kid's nimble fingers pick up the pieces. The grim expression didn't lessen after the pistol was correctly assembled. He frowned when Lyon presented him with a complete pistol, minus a full magazine._

" _The trigger work?"_

 _Lyon cocked the top, aimed the gun to the side with the barrel at the floor and squeezed the trigger in a dry fire. There was a sharp click._

 _Sting's eyes wanted to narrow. He held out his hand and the pistol was set in his palm. He hastily inspected it before looking up. "If anyone needs help at all, you come to me or one of my men and we'll set you straight. Lyon or whatever his name is still doesn't know shit."_

 _Quiet snickers rolled through the group. Lyon's lips were still set in a light grin considering he was called out._

" _We run a tight ship. Until you know our ways, you know nothing."_

 _Gryder swallowed, unsure of how to take Sting. The man was weirdly familiar, but the memory of why he didn't seem like a total stranger couldn't be pinpointed. The whole thing eluded him. The more he thought on it, the more he could feel himself frown._

 _The sound of Sting's voice was distorted on him as he struggled with his identity. Though his lips were moving, there wasn't clear words. Gryder studied his mannerisms, the way he stood. He knew he had saw him somewhere. But when? Where? Why was the memory almost faded?_

 _The chain of thought was severed when Sting's gaze settled over him. Gryder's mind went blank as he stared back. There was a glint of something. Amusement? Curiosity? He had never seen anything like it in another man's eyes._

 _It scared him._

" _You alright, son?"_

 _Gryder quickly averted his gaze in shock before bringing it up. "Yea."_

 _After a brief pause, Sting continued speaking. Eventually the newcomers were given loaners and were herded to a long table to practice what they had just learned._

 _For the first ten minutes, Sting slowly circled the table, watched for any one putting something together incorrectly. It would take them some time to memorize, but they would get it. He had at eighteen, after all._

 _He looked across the table at Gryder as the young adult connected the slide onto the grip. He tested the mechanism before turning his attention to the safety and flipped it off. He turned to dry fire the gun at the floor._

 _Watching them all -Gryder especially- made him want to smile._

 _A sense of pride swelled inside Sting._

* * *

The upstairs was quiet now, Gryder realized. The kids must have fallen asleep.

He poured himself a small glass of whiskey and drank half of it right there at the counter. There wasn't a sound in the house aside from Melina's muffled footsteps above him.

With his glass in hand, he turned off the lights and wandered towards the front room. He kicked aside a few of Owen's abandoned toys on his way. His hand touched the doorknob to lock it as he absently stared out of the window at eye level.

There was a barn across the road. It belonged to the neighboring property. Gryder never saw anyone over there at any given time. No farming equipment. No storage. Just an old barn that barely leaned to one side and ached to be torn down. He wasn't sure why they kept it if it wasn't useful.

When they had arrived home, he was half expecting men from earlier in the day to be there -or at that old barn- hiding, waiting for the right moment after having figured out where they lived. Just like at their parents, no one uninvited was lurking.

"Are you coming to bed?" Melina asked softly. Her whispered voice was loud in his ears.

He turned his head to see her standing halfway down the stairs in a pair of his old lounge pants she had long since hijacked. "Yea, give me a minute," he said, and downed the remaining liquor.

When she left him alone, he silently moved to the living room window. A red transparent curtain covered the large pane and allowed him to see beyond. He took in a deep breath.

Something didn't sit right with him. He couldn't place it. The anxious feeling that lay just out of reach surrounded him, he could neither push it away nor bring it close to finally deal with whatever it was trying to catch his attention.

It could have been his run in with Lyon. It was unexpected and entirely unprovoked. He hadn't heard anything about or from him since the night he left the wretched estate. When he left that past life. The low criminal apparently hadn't been found or arrested in the wake of the kidnapping. Gryder didn't recognize the others who had chased him and Gajeel down. Lyon must have recruited new people or brought in seasoned dealers from elsewhere, if he was indeed trying to be what their old boss had self claimed.

Gryder set his jaw, the muscles bunched.

Lyon was trying to rekindle what he had had in the cartel. It was as good a guess as any. A place to start at least.

He pulled back the curtain to see the yard without hindrance. The darkness was comforting. Like a cloak. There was a bit of ease knowing one wasn't seen, that one was hidden from view. From the unknown. A darkness he still felt inside.

It lingered there. Deep within, hidden away. It liked to remind him of who he had been. Of who he still could be. There was time. Had he betrayed his past self, or was his redemption just that, a way to save himself from his wrongs?

Scanning the property, Gryder let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Nothing was out of place, yet the ominous feeling remained. Everything was eerily silent. The calm before the storm? He hoped not. Without a backward glance, he dropped his hand and left.

Not long after, he shut their bedroom door behind him. The lamp was off. Melina was already trying to sleep. As he slid into the bed beside her, he could already tell that he would have trouble sleeping. His body was exhausted, but his mind couldn't shut down. It kept replaying recent events and what it could all mean.

He soon awoke to realize he had only gotten an hour and a half of restless sleep. The longer he lay there the more he risked waking Melina too.

Calmly he made his way to the bathroom and opened the top cabinet. The one he knew Melina couldn't open without getting on the counter to do so. If she knew he kept a pack of cigarettes, he'd never hear the end of it. It was the best option he had to sleep short of weed, and he didn't want to be the hypocrite on probation.

At the bottom step with the cigarette and lighter, Gryder knew something was wrong. Although the front door was still locked, a slight disturbance in the air alerted him to another's presence. It caused chills to form down his neck.

Silent, deliberate steps moved him to one of the kitchen cabinets, where he found the .380 he had stashed for Melina when she was home alone. He had hoped nothing would ever warrant her having to use it.

Instilled training from the academy took over. The handgun firmly in his grasp, Gryder cautiously glided through the downstairs as he would while on duty to sweep the rooms. He consistently raised and lowered his weapon with each cleared area.

All of the windows were still shut and locked. He frowned as he walked the house. Rounding the corner of the laundry room, he could smell the cold, fresh air. Dim light spilled in from the open crack in the back door. The outside air now touched on his face.

Thoughts of his family above him flashed through his mind, his body screamed at him to go to them. Once he passed by the stairwell, a shot of adrenaline iced his veins when he saw a figure standing in the kitchen, dressed in dark colors. A gloved hand was resting on the island surface. The invader seemed at home as he faced the fridge.

Gryder set his jaw and held his breath as he stealthily crept up behind the figure, the gun aimed directly for a headshot. He followed his target as the figure moved closer to the pictures secured with magnets. Pictures of Melina and his children.

"You picked the wrong house," Gryder murmured through his teeth. He pulled back the hammer with his thumb. "You move, you die."

A chuckle escaped the shadowed burglar. He gradually raised his arms even with his shoulders in a half-assed attempt at surrender. "No, I believe you will," he replied casually, not bothering to turn and face his prey.

While he spoke, Gryder recognized the voice. He hadn't heard it in some years, it wasn't possible. In the same amount of time it took him to realize his own surprise, the deadly sound of a slide loading a round in a chamber echoed in his ear.

His peripheral saw the close barrel of a sleek handgun pointed at his right temple.

The next breath was caught in his throat. He froze. With the .380 now aimed away from the vaguely familiar figure, his thumb slowly reversed the hammer back where it originally rested.

The second man who soundlessly held him at gunpoint roughly grabbed Gryder's pistol from his hand and gave a hard shove, pushing him to the side. He was now trapped between the men and the island and the spotlessly clean counters. He backed up until he bumped into the sink.

If it was who Gryder thought, then he didn't know that he was now a cop. Too much time had passed since. Gryder had changed physically, no doubt the other as well. Whoever the second was probably didn't know he was a cop either. But who did, given that he was an undercover agent?

He remembered the cigarette he had pocketed. "I had come down here for a smoke, I'm gonna reach into my pocket for the cigarette and lighter," he said carefully, looking between the two of them.

When they didn't say anything, he slowly retrieved the items and lit the tobacco stick. Half turned, he set the lighter on the counter and lifted his hand to the window. "She hates when I smoke. I need to open the window, otherwise she'll wake up."

They allowed him to do so, though with firearm trained on him. After a few puffs, Gryder turned his full attention to the perps he knew by now weren't there to kill him.

Propping his hands up on the sink beside him, Gryder tried to ignore the gun ever aimed at him. "Whadaya' want then," he droned. He kept his voice low and level.

"Certainly not to hurt you or the little ones," the man said evenly. He motioned to the pictures beside him at eye level. "Though I can't say the same for the sexy thing in these photos. She looks like she could be wild."

A boiling flame of rage surfaced at the mention of his wife and Gryder's breath came quicker than he wanted. He fought to keep his hands on the sink's edge as they tried to goad him. "She stays out of whatever the fuck this is," he furiously growled.

"Alright, alright. It's a bargain, of sorts," the figure said, ushered into the reason for their middle of the night visit.

"A bargain, hm." Gryder took in a quick drag from the it cigarette. He blew it out before continuing with sarcasm. "This doesn't have anything to do with Lyon Vastia, does it?"

"It does."

The man reached up to pull off the black ski mask covering his identity.

Facing Gryder was his long lost friend Lahar.

"You bastard," Gryder murmured, his eyes widened. The surprise of seeing someone he used to be close to quickly began to turn into shock. "You fucking bastard. Why?"

Lahar pursed his lips. "There are multiple answers to that question. Best to be specific."

His flippant reply only stirred the anger bubbling up inside of Gryder. Many things came to mind then, especially why he was now holding up his supposed friend in his own house, but he simply chose, "What do you have to do with Lyon? Why are you doing his bidding?" He looked more closely at him, his head tilted. "And when did you get out of prison?"

"Lyon contacted me for a job after I got out about a year ago. Thanks for visiting, asshole," Lahar spat. His brow furrowed as he spoke. He motioned once again to the photos. "I rotted in a cell for something idiotic while you idiotically left everyone you know for that fine fox. You could have at least wrote a letter."

"What does this have to do with Lyon or this said bargain," Gryder stated. The humor he remembered was still there inside Lahar, but it was now warped. He blew out the last bit of the cigarette with a turned head, and he extinguished the rest of it in the sink.

Lahar gladly continued. "Normally when there's a loose end who's seen more than they ought, we simply kill them. But because this loose end is you…" he trailed off.

Gryder crossed his arms over his chest, the beginnings lf a smile formed on his lips. It wasn't hard to guess what would come next.

"He knows you-"

"He doesn't know shit."

"He wants you to work for him."

"I already have a job."

"He wants you to work for him," Lahar repeated slightly slower than before. "Because now he knows where you keep your family."

"Go to hell," Gryder immediately snarled. That's how his past caught up with him. Lyon would use his own wife against him if he didn't comply. It was blackmail.

"Hey, I'm just the messenger boy. Although I don't agree with this per se, he does have the advantage here. I'd do what he says. For everyone's sake." Lahar gave him a sort of grimace. A wordless plea.

He could see it in his eyes.

Gryder scowled as he considered his limited options. He hadn't had time to inform the right people at the station about events. When he did, they would tell him the same things he already knew now. "I don't negotiate with criminals. Not anymore," he said heavily.

Lahar's expression twinged upon hearing a routine usage of words, brown eyes ever so slightly narrowed. "You sound like a damned pig."

Keeping his mouth shut, the undercover police officer forcefully held the eye contact until Lahar finally broke it. He waved a lowered hand, and the other man with him backed away.

"You can find us at the lumber yard in Alice, off 44. More info can be given once you're there. Come alone. Just hear him out, it's all I'm asking."

He was tempted to speak, but Gryder knew if he opened his mouth, his suppressed rage would undoubtedly follow to manifest into a physical altercation. And that would be difficult to hide in the silence of the night. The last thing he needed was for anyone upstairs to wake.

The second, unidentified man slowly backed up to let Lahar by. The gun was at the ready, though now carried as a precaution, which signaled to Gryder that the whole encounter was soon ending.

"It _was_ good to see you, Mest," Lahar said. He pulled the ski mask back over his head. "It's been a long while. You've got something real good goin' on." He gestured around himself to indicate to all that the house encompassed.

With that said, Lahar quickly left the room behind his accomplice to retrace their steps to the back door.

Gryder let out a rough breath. He placed his hand on his face and blew out another breath to steady his pounding heart. He went to the laundry room and shut the now fully opened entrance.

How had they broken into his house, considering that there were no broken windows or other damaged property? Even the door frame was seemingly untouched. It was as if they had had at the very least a bump key.

He stuck his head out the door. There was no sign of anyone. No vehicles around, no sounds other than the typical nighttime tunes.

Gryder pursed his lips. His family's privacy had just been compromised, and now his life was as well. Lyon knew where he lived. He could be easily found. If he wasn't here, Melina and the kids would be in danger at all times. There was nowhere to turn, nowhere to hide.

There was also the fact that he worked for the right side of the law. If Lyon -or anyone else who knew him for that matter- found out, it would spell bad news. He didn't know what could happen. He honestly didn't want to find out.

The ghost of the past had effectively seized him by the balls.

A curse slipped from between his lips.


End file.
